JTF Alpha  One
by PapaSix1
Summary: A modern AU, Sokka is selected to command an elite group of highly trained warriors. His skills will be tested, especially when he begins bonding with his new unit and their missions become increasingly dangerous. Please review!
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

This story came to mind after two days I spent at home watching _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ and assorted war films. I decided to mesh the two together in an AU story set in the near future in the Universe we live in. While the plot would not mirror that of the show or any of the films I saw, I decided that I would have the characters follow the established canon when it came to their relationships.

All of you who will read the story may notice some differences between the characters' personalities on the show and in the story. That can be attributed to the situation the characters find themselves in and the military training they would have gone through if they had been a part of the units mentioned in the story. I also decided to exclude Katara from being in the same unit as everyone else for the following reasons: I did not feel her character fit too well with the tone the story was going to take, and that she and Sokka would not be allowed to be in the same unit together since they are so closely related.

I could not include every character from the Avatar universe, but I made do with the ones I figured would be appropriate without being too weird. Sorry if your favorite isn't included among the main cast. And you should also be warned that if you have a problem with vulgar language and graphic descriptions of violence and combat, this fic is not for you. I hope all of you that do read it enjoy the story; I'll do my best to update as soon as I possibly can. Thank you.

P.S. I do not own _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, or any of its characters. The universe is the property of Nickelodeon, Michael DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. Those dudes kick ass.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Orders**

The scents and sights of battle were all too familiar to Captain Sokka Kunayak. Cordite, sweat, smoke, blood, puke, diesel fumes and the distinct sickly-sweet odor of burnt human flesh all hung in the air. An enemy command bunker that had been taken by his company was now the Battalion Commander's Command Post, or CP as it was usually called. Sokka would have been lying if he said that he was not bothered by the fact that Lt. Colonel Brooks had walked up and staked his claim on an enemy position that had cost Sokka seven Marines in his company. The seven dead Marines were in body bags off to the side, away from the bustle of Navy Corpsmen attending the wounded. The seven were joined by another nineteen and they were all zipped up and placed in neat little rows; they could not have the bodies stinking up the place further.

Sokka did not have to do the math in his head; his company had suffered twenty-six Marines killed in action. The number of wounded was a different matter and Sokka still did not have an accurate number yet, and a part of him did not want to know the figures. The remnants of his company straggled behind their hobbling Captain. Cammies torn, some with soiled bandages stained with blood, covering wounded faces or shredded limbs. Their breaths turning into vapor in the cold Russian air. One Marine kept fiddling with the bandage wrapped around his hand that was preventing further bleeding from his severed middle finger. Another was being helped along by another Marine and a Corpsman having suffered a gunshot wound to the shin and a piece of shrapnel embedded in his face. He was eventually given to another Corpsman for further medical care. One sailor jogged up to Sokka after catching the limp the Captain was dealing with. "Sir, where are you hit?" he asked.

The officer shook his head and pointed toward his boot. An enemy round had blown off the heel, missing the flesh by millimeters. "Don't mind me, Doc. There are guys behind me that need more attention," the Corpsman nodded and moved off to do his duties. As the Corpsman moved off, Sokka's second in command, First Lieutenant James Aaron, approached him. The twenty-five year old Annapolis graduate leaned forward and whispered, "Twenty-six KIA, times two wounded, sir." Sokka nodded, he did not stop walking until he saw an area that seemed fairly clear and motioned toward it as he glanced at Aaron. The lieutenant nodded and told the remainder of the company to sit down and rest. They were done for the day.

Marines shrugged off their rucksacks and laid their weapons down next to them, most took off their helmets while others moved around and passed out cigarettes. None of them had much to say, in a few minutes the majority of them would be lost in a numb slumber that would probably last an hour or less before they felt the sudden hunger hit them. First Lieutenant Aaron stood next to his superior and looked out at the Marines. Both Sokka and James remained there in silence for a moment until Sokka asked, "Which platoon was hit the hardest?" Lieutenant Aaron was a bit hesitant to answer the question but he knew he would have to do it anyways. The Marine officer heaved a sigh, "Second platoon was almost completely wiped out. The leadership took a hit too; Second Lieutenant Gambol bought it and Staff Sergeant Chen lost a leg." Sokka pursed his lips and mulled the new information over. He hadn't thought that second platoon would suffer so badly during their initial assault on the enemy-held ridgeline; after all they had swung around the enemy's flank to avoid attacking them head on.

"Alright," Sokka said quietly, "make sure they get some rest and food. I'm going to speak to the Colonel." He wanted to get this part over with as soon as possible, it had been one shitty week and odds were that it wasn't going to get any better. Sokka undid his helmet as he approached the entrance to the Battalion CP. He could hear his superior speaking over a radio; odds were that he was speaking to his superior, Brigadier General Stinson. Sokka could not help but overhear what he was saying, "Yes sir… No, the ridgeline has been taken… No, it's officially property of the United States Marine Corps… Of course, sir, I'll tell him…" A second passed and Lt. Colonel Brooks tossed the receiver down. The man was in his late forties, and had a quiet manner about him, at least at the moment. There had been times where Sokka had seen him turn into an unstoppable motivational foul mouthed force that could send even the toughest man running for cover. "Captain," he acknowledged Sokka's presence at last. "Sir, Charlie Company has officially pulled back." Sokka didn't bother saluting, the prospect of enemy snipers in the area deterred officers from doing anything that would label them as a juicy target.

"I know, Captain. Delta is moving into position to hold the ridge for the night. You and your guys took one hell of a beating, but you pulled through."

"Yes, sir…" An awkward silence set in. The Colonel looked over a data pad, checking out how everything was coming together.

In 2023, a civil war had erupted in Russia and the government asked for the United Nation's support. The conflict was now in its second year, and Sokka could say that it was a fairly conventional conflict. The majority of the rebel troops were former Russian military personnel who knew the terrain well and were usually armed to the teeth. While some people did not think the UN should have stepped in, the intentions of the rebels were anything but good, and with their eyes set on Russia's fairly extensive petroleum supply and Russian Federation's nuclear missile silos, the western powers could not let the oil fields in the Caucuses or the nukes fall into hostile hands. Sokka's company was part of 2nd Battalion 1st Marine Division, spearheading the push toward the center of the rebel lines "What'd you find up there, Captain?" Lt. Colonel Brooks asked.

Sokka snapped out of his trance and approached a map the Colonel had projected on a wall. "May I, sir?" he asked, motioning toward the map. Brooks nodded; Sokka magnified a section of the map and highlighted the ridgeline. "We initially approached the ridgeline from the west but we began taking casualties due to heavy mortar fire and sporadic machine gun fire along with some booby traps. So I had the company back off and went for a pincer move; Second and Third platoons attacked the flanks while First platoon harassed the center. I held Fourth platoon in reserve. Intel said that the center of the ridge was well fortified but that Intel was wrong, sir. Their left flank was incredibly well defended, and Second platoon took the brunt of it." Sokka used the marker function on the display to mark his platoons' avenues of attack. Had he been more present mentally, he'd have cursed his lack of artistic ability and how even his arrows came out crooked.

"By the end of the first day we held the foot of the ridge and the enemy kept harassing us with small unit actions the entire night. They were probing our lines and looking for a way to throw us off the slope. It was then that we realized that they had night vision capabilities. And the next morning we encountered reinforced bunkers such as this one." Sokka motioned toward the fortification they were in, it was then that he noticed that some members of Brooks' staff were looking at him and he felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of having more eyes on him as he spoke. "We advanced slowly during the next day, but decided to make our push at night under the cover of a heavy artillery barrage. The ridge was Charlie Company property by morning and we beat off two well organized counter-attacks." Sokka was pretty much done with his explanation, and he had butchered the Colonel's map as well. "Very good," the older man said. Sokka nodded and pressed the icon to clear his mess off the digital display.

"We encountered some serious fire power up on that ridge, sir," he continued, "we found a bunch of PKMs and DsHKs, as well as assorted small arms, mortars, RPGs, some recoiless rifles too. There was a company sized element guarding the ridge and its ammo cache. We counted at least fifty Russian corpses by the time we got up there. I'm not sure how many we killed during their counterattacks." Sokka had placed his helmet on a crate of ammo and remained standing there in a stance he could only describe as "semi-attention", the sound of the 12.7mm Russian DsHK still echoed in his mind. He was waiting for the Colonel to ask some other question about the battle, and he did. It was a question that Sokka did not want to answer. "How many men is your company down by?" he asked. Sokka bit back a sigh and pulled the numbers out of his memory bank, "The numbers stand at twenty-six Marines killed in action and twice that number wounded. The bastards really didn't want to give up that position." Lt. Colonel Brooks nodded grimly at the casualty count for Charlie Company. "You did well, Captain. I had faith in you and your Company, that's why I gave you this objective." Sokka was not quite sure what to say about that. Casualties were inevitable, and things could have turned out much worse for C Company.

"Captain," Brooks said, Sokka snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his superior officer, his stomach let out a low growl that reminded him that he had not had a decent meal in a while. He ignored it. "Yes, sir?" a brief pause as the Colonel brought something up on his personal screen. "I have new orders for you, Captain," he muttered as he handed Sokka the pad gingerly. Sokka had to look over the digital read out a few times before he realized what it was all about, "You're being reassigned, son."

"So I see, sir. Are you sure that this isn't some sort of mistake?"

"No, Captain. This was meant for you, straight from SOCOM."

"This is from Special Operations Command?"

Brooks nodded, "Just don't ask me what they want you for." The fact that he had received a letter from SOCOM; was odd enough and of course the fact that the letter did not say anything as to why he was needed stateside again further added to how odd the situation was. "Those orders are effective immediately, Captain. You're to report to Kiev and be on the next flight outta this country, on paper; you're no longer attached to the 1st Marine Division." Sokka winced inwardly; if he was no longer part of the Division then he did not have a company to command anymore. "Sir, the company…" Brooks waved him off, "Choose an officer to take your place. We won't promote him immediately but he'll be in charge of Charlie." Sokka frowned at his orders, leaving his men was not something he wanted to do but odds were that whatever SOCOM wanted with him, it was important. Besides, he had an officer in mind that could take charge of the company. "First Lieutenant Aaron, sir. You might want to take a look at him to take charge of Charlie." Brooks nodded, "Very well, Captain Kunayak, dismissed," he said as he extended his hand. Sokka took it and shook it before leaving.

Aaron was standing not too far from the bunker entrance holding two mugs of warm coffee. He smiled and offered one of the mugs to his superior, who graciously accepted. "Thanks, Jim. Not as good as that steak I've wanted since we deployed, but at least it's warm," Sokka said as he moved his rifle out of his way and took a sip. "Yeah… Pretty good," he grinned to himself. "So, I have good news, Lieutenant- Shit…" he scowled as his right hand went down to rest on the handle of his pistol that was supposed to be secured to his thigh and found nothing. He cursed again; the M1911 Colt .45 that his father had given him after he became a Recon Marine was one of his prized possessions. His father, Lt. General Hakoda Kunayak, had been issued the pistol early in his military career and had modified it over the years. Hakoda always told Sokka that the pistol would always come back to him, and now he had lost it on his first major engagement as a Company commander. It was official: He was a dead man when he got home.

"Looking for your sidearm, sir?" Aaron asked, "You might want to talk to Sergeant Bentham in that case- Hey Sergeant Bentham!" the young officer hollered. "Yes, sir?" a gruff voice answered as one guy's head suddenly popped up. "Sergeant, do you still have that thing you found?" Bentham nodded, "You mean the pistol? Yeah, I got it right here." Sergeant Bentham reached into his dump bag and produced Sokka's pistol. "Shit, that's mine," Sokka said as he approached Sergeant Bentham and reached for the pistol. Bentham handed the weapon over and Sokka checked the actions, it still worked fine despite the beating it took. "Where'd you find it, Sergeant?" Bentham tried to jog his memory but just shrugged and told him that he could not remember the exact location. He had recognized it as Sokka's and decided to pick it up. "Thank you, Sergeant Bentham. I owe you a drink," Sokka looked around at the weary Marines around him. "I owe you all a drink," he added. Some Marines nodded at him, others smiled, or gave him a thumbs-up, while others slept for the first time in days.

"Sir, what was it that you were going to tell me?" Sokka cut to the chase, there was no easy way of dumping his responsibilities on the young Lieutenant. "I've received orders from the top. I'm to report stateside, and you are to take command of Charlie Company." As expected, Aaron was caught by surprise. "Are you serious, sir?" Sokka nodded, "Absolutely serious, Jim. You won't be promoted yet, but think of this as your chance." He glanced at his men as he holstered his pistol and put his helmet back on. "Hey guys," he began, most of the Marines looked out from beneath their helmets while others continued napping. "Looks, guys, there's no easy way to say this, but I've been reassigned." Confusion marked some of their faces; it was there, behind the grime and exhaustion. "I'm wanted stateside, so until I get back, you'll be under the command of Lieutenant Aaron here. You all know him, and respect him. I wouldn't choose any other guy to take my place." Sokka did his best to conjure up a cocky smile, "Don't get into too much trouble without me." He finished, some of the Marines smiled at him while other nodded or let out a chuckle, and that was it. Within four hours, he was in Kiev carrying out one of the most random orders he had ever been given.

Sokka had been fortunate enough to find himself a new pair of boots to replace the worn and mud cached ones he had on his feet. There wasn't a flight out of the country when he got off of the Black Hawk helicopter, so he took advantage of the time he had and changed his socks. It felt good to change out of the same pair that he had been wearing for the past three weeks. He tossed the sweat encrusted socks into a garbage bin and produced a fresh pair before finally slipping on his new pair of boots. Sokka bloused his trousers, changed his undershirt, tucked it in and slid on the rest of his utility uniform. Seeing as he was still in a combat zone, Sokka kept a weapon on him or near him at all times. If it wasn't his pistol then he had his rifle with him, the safety was always on, along with a round in the chamber. Along with the weapon, he usually had his vest on, the extra weight was annoying but it was better to deal with discomfort rather than a hunk of shrapnel in his chest, or worse, his groin.

He waited on the tarmac with his cover on his head, his helmet latched on to his tuck and his weapon strapped to his body. While he waited he talked with some Army and Air Force personnel and field stripped his weapon to pass the time before he was told that his plane had landed. He said good-bye to the guys he had been talking to and Russia, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he would be saying hello to it again.

The ramp to the C-17 Globemaster went down and Sokka waited for the massive pieces of equipment were unloaded. He was surprised to see that a Humvee was the only piece of military equipment that the airmen unloaded. The Loadmaster welcomed Sokka on and gave him a small salute after catching a glimpse of the two bars on his collar made of subdued black metal. Sokka returned the salute and gave him a curt nod before moving deeper into the cavernous craft and catching a glimpse of three figures sitting in the plane. The first one immediately caught his eye for two reasons: the first was that the figure wasn't in any sort of uniform and was instead wearing what looked like civilian clothing, and the second was that the figure was in fact a female.

Her dirty auburn hair was mostly hidden underneath a cap, a few loose, greasy strands hung down over her blue eyes which led Sokka's own blue orbs to the rest of her features. Despite the grime that had been hastily wiped away from her face, there was no doubt that the young woman was incredibly attractive. In fact he could joke that she was too pretty to be in the military, but the joke quickly evaporated within his mind when her eyes snapped upward and locked on to his. They held their position for a little over a second and then glanced in the direction of Sokka's collar. Like many ground troops, she seemed to have turned off the immediate reaction of saluting an officer and instead gave him a nod as she practically whispered "Captain." He nodded as he removed his cap and looked to her right to see two other people who were caught up in a conversation. Their accents were distinctively American.

The larger one of the two had on civilian looking clothing with a combat vest on over the jacket. His hair was grown well past regulation standards and his equipment looked highly modified and tailored to his own preferences. Sokka recognized an operator when he saw one. "This seat taken?" he asked the man, who then turned his head and Sokka got a good look at his face. The left side of his face had taken a nasty hit at some point, the skin looked tough and leathery forming faults down the left side of his face. If Sokka had to wager a guess, the man had been hit with white hot shrapnel at some point during his military career. Much like the young woman he had seen earlier, the man's eyes flickered towards Sokka's lapel. It was then that Sokka noticed their amber hue. "Not at all, sir. Take a seat, please." He didn't smile but his voice sounded rather genuine if not a bit gruff. But then again, most old soldiers sounded that way.

As he sat down, Sokka caught a glimpse of who the spec ops guy was talking to. By his standards, she was short and young. Granted, Sokka had turned thirty that year and most of the people he encountered within the military, in particular the Marines, were younger than him. Some exceptions were old, salty Sergeant Majors and Gunnery Sergeants that he still looked up to as well as most of his superior officers.

The young woman had black hair, well within regulation length if not slightly shorter and like everyone else she looked fresh off the field. Her uniform told Sokka that she was in the Army, and the patch on her right shoulder told him that she was in the 75th Ranger Regiment. She was too far for him to clearly identify which Battalion she was in. "One fucking thing doesn't change: Intel always drops the fucking ball and people like us die screaming because of that shit." Her crass remark caught Sokka by surprise, even if he did agree with it. "I'm telling you, Mr. Long. We're going to die because of stuff like that, best case scenario; we just end up back at the VA all fucked up." The one she called Mr. Long simply grunted in return as Sokka tried to look busy by rummaging through his rucksack. But he noticed that a silence had taken over the inside of the plane.

He looked up and caught the Ranger and the spec ops guy looking at him, Sokka cleared his throat and looked up at them. "Is there a problem?" he tried his best not to use his officer voice, but he could not help the slight authoritative tone that slipped into his voice. "Nothing sir, we're just wondering if you received the same orders as the rest of us," the scarred man said. "If your orders came from SOCOM then yeah," the scarred guy extended his hand and introduced himself. "Chief Warrant Officer Zuko Long, U.S Army," Sokka gripped the CWO's hand and shook it. "Captain Sokka Kunayak, United States Marine Corps. I didn't know the Army was issuing civilian clothing these days." He couldn't help but smirk a little; Zuko didn't look all that amused as the Ranger stuck her hand out towards Sokka. "Sergeant Toph Bei-Fong, 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment." The Army had recently allowed women to enter direct combat roles, which included being a part of the 75th Ranger Regiment. The Pentagon decided not to lower standards for women which caused the group of females within the unit to be very small. The Marines were slow to integrate women into direct combat roles though, Sokka had only seen a handful of female Marines milling about the front lines and if he remembered correctly, billets in Recon battalions and the Marine Special Operations Regiment (MSOR) were made up entirely of men. At least that was how he remembered it a few months before when he had been in MSOR.

He grasped the young woman's hand and made eye contact with her as he noticed both her firm grip and the dark green eye color. It was about time Sokka finally came face to face with one of the female Rangers he had heard so much about. "Where'd you come from, sir?" she asked as she picked at something in her ear. "East of Kiev, I was attached to the 1st Marine Division," Sokka slipped off his rifle and laid it at his feet after taking out the magazine and ejecting the one round in the chamber. As another precaution, he made sure the fire selector catch was flipped to "Safe".

"You're an infantry officer, sir?" Zuko asked. Sokka's eyes narrowed, "What is SOCOM too good for a Marine infantry officer?" he hissed dangerously. "No, sir," Zuko retreated, "I'm just wondering why command would pull a Captain away from his company like this." Sokka had an idea why, but as far as he was concerned, it was not any of the CWO's business. "Well whatever the reason, we'll figure it out soon enough," Sokka grumbled. "Take your seats! We'll be outta this fucking country shortly!" the Loadmaster bellowed. Sokka automatically fastened his seatbelt as he heard the massive door begin to shut. Some fumbling to his right caught Sokka's eye. It was Toph; she was making a decent racket searching for her seatbelt as she cursed under her breath. "Honestly," Zuko said, "I don't know how you managed to become a Ranger with this fear of heights you have." Toph snapped her seatbelt around her waist and glared at Zuko. "I don't like flying, that's all. Heights have nothing to do with it." Zuko snorted, "Yeah, sure."

Sokka rolled his eyes and glanced in the direction of the auburn haired woman he had seen when he stepped onto the aircraft. Her eyes were turned in the direction of the cargo bay doors and the final slit of light coming through. "I never got your name," Sokka said over the mechanical whine of the doors. She didn't hear him, so he called her attention again and she looked back at him, a sleepy look in her eyes. "Sir?" that was when he detected a slight foreign accent in her voice. "I never got your name, soldier," Sokka was taking a gamble by assuming she was s soldier. "Townsend, Suki. Staff Sergeant, British Special Air Service." Sokka held back a snort and mumbled to himself. "Great, a limey, things keep getting more interesting for me these days. I wonder what the universe has in store for me next." Toph suddenly spoke up, "Don't tempt the universe, sir. You won't always like what it shoots your way." Sokka cocked an eyebrow as he wondered how she had managed to hear him. The bay doors closed and the long flight to Germany began in silence.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Leadership**

Ramstein Air Base was a bustle of activity, the controlled chaos that could only be found at a military base under extreme duress from operational stressors. Personnel were loaded onto troop transport craft, most of them never having seen combat before. Sokka remembered when he had been in their boots years ago; he remembered that fear of the unknown that plagued him. That same fear bolted itself in his mind before every combat mission, no matter how many times the enemy shot at you, it was different every engagement. Veterans just had an easier time putting the fear aside, or harnessing it for some sort of psychological purpose during a fight.

The way Sokka came to grips with the fear of being killed or wounded was simple; he just accepted it as an occupational hazard. He knew the statistics and figured that he would get hit by a hot piece of metal eventually so there was no use fretting about it. And it did eventually happen the year he had become a Sergeant, before his field commission. He had taken a bullet fragment to the knuckles, as well as a bullet to the arm and one in the helmet during a recon mission in the Philippines. His men had been horrified to see their team leader take a round to the head and drop to the ground suddenly. It took them a while to drag him out of the way and figure out that he was actually unconscious and not dead. He saw the quiet confidence in the veteran Noncommissioned Officers as they boarded the planes and left the base, he just wondered if it would remain intact by the time they got back.

Once Sokka and the others unloaded themselves from the C-17 cargo bay, they were directed towards a barracks where they waited for a while before more people showed up. They were all told that the barracks was not for them and most of them ended up either standing or sitting on the linoleum floor. Toph ignored that and simply sat down on a bunk that probably belonged to a pilot. Sokka took up a space between Zuko and Suki on the floor, by that time all of them had undone their vests and they rested next to their respective owners in a neat pile. "This reeks of covert work," Zuko muttered to no one in particular. "Taking us out of the fight, sending us here with other people who seem to all be part of the special operations community, oh yeah, it sounds like shady covert stuff." Sokka replied, one of the new guys walked by and glanced in their direction before leaning against a wall. "Are you guys spec ops?"

Sokka's eyes narrowed slightly, the guy's voice oozed cockiness, as did his body language, brown eyes and the way his eyebrows seemed to be permanently arched. The toothpick protruding from his mouth was also a nice touch. Although he was not one to pull rank on someone, Sokka did do so occasionally on people he did not like much, and he could already sense that this guy was one of those people. "Is that really any of your business, Sergeant?" he asked the moment her caught the Velcro patch on the young man's uniform. Unlike the rest of them, he had not been taken directly from the field and was wearing his multicam combat uniform with his unit's cover, which just so happened to be a green beret that he had clutched in his hand.

The Green Beret didn't even flinch when he realized that he was talking to an officer, his tone did change though. "I didn't mean anything by it, sir. I'm just asking around since it seems like there's a trend of spec ops guys running around here, if you get what I mean," he motioned in the direction of some other people in the barracks. "Name's Jet by the way," he extended his hand towards Sokka first, who took it and gripped it firmly. Both men used more strength than was necessary since they were both sizing each other up. "Captain Kunayak," Sokka said. He didn't have to tell the cocky bastard to refer to him as "sir" from now on. "So, you guys didn't answer my question," Jet probed again. "Maybe because it's none of your business, Sergeant," Zuko suddenly hissed. The young brown haired man held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it, I'm just curious that's all."

Another brown haired man approached Jet. Much like the soldier with the attitude, he had his hair grown out past regulation length. But unlike Jet, he had a mustache, green eyes and masculine good looks with a fuller face. "Jet, how about you stop pestering these poor people and use your head?" he turned towards Sokka. "I'm sorry, sir. Sergeant Luan here is a bit too impetuous for his own good. I've been doing my best to scare it out of him, but it seems he won't learn until he gets shot, captured or worse." The man had a green beret much like Jet, so it was safe to say they may have been in the same unit at some point, especially after what he had just said. "Sergeant Haru Park, sir, U.S Army Special Forces," they shook hands after a curt salute; Sokka was getting sick of the introductions already.

"I'm looking for a Captain Sokka Kunayak and a CWO Zuko Long," a young and rather goofy looking Airman called out from the barracks entrance. Sokka and Zuko raised their hands in unison before getting to their feet. "I'm also looking for a Staff Sergeant Townsend," he added. "Right here," Suki called out. "You need to come with me, the old guys want to see you," the Airman said. They got up and followed him out; they had to leave Toph at the mercy of the two Green Berets. They hoped she would play nice with them especially after becoming acquainted with her abrasive attitude.

The Airman was younger than Sokka, mid to late twenties and a few inches shorter than both him, Zuko and even Suki. Sokka also noticed that he was not just an Airman, he was an NCO. The problem was that Sokka had a difficult time seeing the differences between Air Force enlisted ranks. "Technical Sergeant Aang Vinluan by the way," he said as if he'd read Sokka's mind. To be honest, he wanted to whack the Technical Sergeant in the back of his bald head. All these introductions were making his head spin. "Captain Kunayak," he shot out. The Tech Sergeant had a chipper demeanor, and a voice to match. There was also a light, airy quality to his step that branded him a featherweight in Sokka's book. "I got pulled out of my unit, not too long ago. I wonder what it is they want with us," Aang continued talking to Sokka despite the fact that the officer was not in any mood to listen. They were led to a well-lit briefing room, and Sokka hoped that meant that the talkative Tech Sergeant was going to be leaving them. But much to his dismay, he stayed with them.

Inside the room stood two men in their dress uniforms and both of them were wearing stars on their shoulders; one of them had one on his sleeves. The ragged looking group immediately shaped up and saluted their superiors before they were told to sit down. "Sit down gentlemen, and lady," the larger of the two men wore four stars on his shoulder. A proud array of ribbons adorned his chest. The uniform covered a barrel chest and broad shoulders, as well as what was most likely a slight paunch. But there was no doubt about it, the man commanded respect in a quiet manner. There was no scowl on his face; he did not glare at them as they entered. He simply stood there with a gentle yet reassuring look on his features. One feature in particular stuck out to Sokka: the eyes. They looked very familiar. He cursed to himself when he glanced in Zuko's direction and caught a glimpse of his eyes, they were the same. "My name is General Iroh Long," that set everything in place, "and this is Vice Admiral Pakku Cupik." The General motioned toward the other senior officer.

Both of them were losing their grey hair, although it seemed like the process was slower for Iroh as his hair line was simply receding, while Pakku's hair line seemed to have fallen back to its final defensive position on the back of his head. Sokka wondered if it was years of stress that had caused all of the hair loss. He wondered if he'd end up the same way someday too. "You've all been selected from a large pool of candidates within the special operations community for your skills, talent, intelligence and general prowess as warriors. And you've been brought here to lead a Joint Task Force," the General said. Sokka had heard some rumors about Joint Special Operations Command and their Task Forces, running around the world, screwing things up for the enemy. Now it looked like SOCOM wanted to try their hand with the same thing directly without JSOC dipping their hands in. "All of you have what it takes to lead some of the finest operators in the world into combat," the Vice Admiral picked up where the General left off. "You would not be here if General Iroh and I did not already believe you were capable of doing what will be asked of you all." That put quite a few bad mental pictures in Sokka's mind. The words "suicide missions" came to mind, as did "plausible deniability".

Sokka also wondered if the people that had been chosen had any say in the matter at all, or if they were just going to be put into a makeshift unit without their consent. He raised his hand; General Iroh nodded in his direction and addressed him by his name and rank, which caught Sokka by surprise. "Sir is the situation so urgent that you need to pull people out of their units while they're deployed?" he spewed out what had been swimming about his mind a couple of seconds earlier and did his best to remove any sort of attitude or annoyance from his voice. "Yes Captain, we called you all away from your respective units because of how urgently you are all needed," the General answered, his voice remained low and calm, the voice of an experienced leader.

General Iroh Long was a legend within the military, Sokka had heard a lot about him even though they did not serve in the same branch. The man was famous for Operation White Lotus, his siege of an enemy base that lasted for three months as well as his days as a Special Forces officer when he was younger. General Iroh's army had to fight a two front battle, on one side they did their best to penetrate enemy defenses and on the other they faced a counterattack as well as encirclement themselves. The whole thing had happened before Sokka's lifetime, but the operation itself had been studied at the Officer Training School to demonstrate how superior firepower and deployment of troops could affect a battle's outcome. They also talked about the General's tenacity and strategic know-how in the face of great personal tragedy. General Iroh had lost a son during that battle, a young First Lieutenant who's name Sokka could not remember. These days it seemed that the General was busy conducting intelligence gathering operations from the Pentagon or other less conspicuous locations. That's all Sokka knew, the General's past was a bit of a mystery and most likely very complicated.

Vice Admiral Pakku Cupik was someone that Sokka was far more familiar with, the man was a legend within the United States Navy, in particular for his days in the field as a SEAL. Now he was the Navy's top planner when it came to SEAL missions, he was also the head of the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group, or DEVGRU for short. He was known for his aggressive attitude, gruff demeanor and his staunch stance against opening special operations combat roles to women in the Navy despite the Army's decision to do the opposite a few years before. From what Sokka saw in the man, the descriptions were fairly accurate. In fact he looked rather bored, and annoyed, a sneer was no doubt a twitch away from his face.

"This unit will be company sized, when including the logistical support you will need we're looking a battalion of people at the most," Pakku continued. "You will have no knowledge as to the mission of this task force until you decide to be on board for sure. Is that understood?" A chorus of "yes sirs" and one "aye sir" resounded throughout the room. "I'll take that as an agreement that you're all on board," General Iroh said. No one protested. "Excellent," he walked over to a table and picked up a series of files and handed them for Tech Sergeant Vinluan to pass out. "You already met these people, either on the flight here or in the barracks." Sokka took one of the fat files and passed one on to Zuko. He flipped it open and had Sergeant Bei-Fong's eyes looking back at him, it caught him by surprise. Sokka skimmed over the information on the page, his eyes lingered on words that his brain committed to memory.

She came from a solid background; her family was wealthy and with her test scores she could have had the option of becoming an officer. Instead she enlisted on her eighteenth birthday without telling her parents and opted for the Ranger Assessment and Selection Program as soon as the Army opened that window of opportunity for females. Since she began serving with the 75th Ranger Regiment Toph had received multiple combat commendations and had earned a reputation among the 1st Battalion for being a gruff, hard-nosed fighter and a stubborn squad leader. Sokka also noticed that her vision reached the minimal uncorrected requirement criteria to serve in the Ranger Battalions.

After that Sokka took a look at that Jet character's file, he was surprised to see a solid service record with no reports of insubordination or incompetence. If anything, his record said that Jet was an extremely capable soldier and a good leader. The things that kept him from receiving a field commission though were an attitude and a cocky streak a mile wide. Nothing too serious, he just had a tendency to use sarcasm with his superiors, something that Sokka had learned to control a long time ago. Jet was also an exceptional shot, he was not a sniper but a spotter in fact and as his record showed, he was a very good one. Sokka thought for a second, Jet's prowess in the field aside, his cocky attitude might become a liability during an operation. But he did not want to jump to any conclusions just yet; he had to train with guy in order to see how smoothly things went.

Sergeant Haru Park was next, his file was thicker than Jet's, and Sokka also noticed he had more commendations including one for good behavior. The sergeant's record was clean, and there were several sentences and sometimes entire paragraphs that were blotted out on his service record. The man had experience with clandestine operations; that was for sure. Sokka also read that Haru's father had served in the Green Berets as well; he had been listed as missing in action for well over two decades now. The specifics of his mission were blacked out of course, so Sokka could not read any further. It seemed that Haru decided to follow in his father's footsteps. The final member he read about was Hospital Corpsman First Class William M. Murphy, a SEAL operator with well over eight years of experience. His service record and list of medals spoke volumes. But what Sokka noticed most, apart from the Corpsman's absence, was the lack of service records for his subordinates in the room. It was safe to assume that their records had been withheld because no one wanted to be in the same room as a stranger reviewed their personal file and records. But if Sokka had to hazard a guess, he'd say that everyone in the briefing room made up the task force's command structure.

Another paper was passed around and when Sokka looked it over, a knot formed in his stomach. It was a contract of sorts, and it said that the signer was signing away their identity and basically their entire life. The government would deny all knowledge of their missions and existence if they were captured or if their bodies were found. That meant that they would not be wearing anything that would identify them on ops. It seemed that Sokka had been hand-picked to conduct false flag operations, among other things. The other members that Sokka had met in the barracks came into the briefing room and were given the same information more or less as well as the same government contract. It didn't take too long for all of them to sign it and take up room in makeshift barracks somewhere else on the base after they were led to the separate gender shower rooms.

They weren't herded into a tent like the weeks leading up to their advance into Russia, which made Sokka heave a sigh of relief, but their accommodations were most definitely arranged hastily. All of them were given bunks in a large spare room, there weren't even any cabinets or lockers to put their stuff in so it ended up in the corner in separate piles. They received word that some of their uniforms were being sent over from their respective home bases, where they would be heading in a day or two. They were also told that they could not leave the base, at all. That order extracted some quiet groans from them once the officer had left.

Sokka felt a bit apprehensive since he never had to share living space with a female in such a situation, let alone two of them. However it was a good thing that they were all there with him so he could get to know them a bit better. Toph didn't seem too uncomfortable, since she was already snoring despite the conversations going on around her.

The lone Marine had turned in his ammunition to the armory along with everyone else; he called one of the top bunks as he hung his weapon up on the bars. Aang, who was about to call the same top bunk as his own tried to hide his disappointment, "Well it's not like I can argue with an officer anyways," he grumbled a bit too loudly. "You're shorter than me, anyways," Sokka said, "it should be easier for you to get out of the bottom bunk." He walked over to the locker and began pulling his belongings out, there wasn't much to store in the lockers since they had no real time to settle down anywhere during operations. Everything they needed had to be carried on their backs.

Staff Sergeant Townsend had remained quiet for the most part; she probably felt more out of place than Sokka did, being a different nationality and all. It must have been uncomfortable to hear unfamiliar accents all around you. "Do you mind rooming with guys like this?" he asked her as she swung herself up to the top bunk. Her boots hung off the side and dangled in front of Zuko's face, powdering it with some dirt. Like everyone else, she did not have a spare pair of boots and was stuck wearing her sweat encrusted civilian clothing that she had had on during her previous mission. She glanced up at Sokka and shook her head, "Not really, after all, it's not like there's an overabundance of females in the SAS anyways is there, sir?" Sokka saw her point and nodded a bit bashfully, "Fair enough," he muttered as he tore off his boots. "What do you guys think they're getting a Task Force together for?" Aang asked from the bunk below. Zuko grunted in response as he placed his boots on the floor and glared upwards, "I have no idea, Tech Sergeant."

"You can call me, Aang, Mr. Long."

"Right…"

Zuko flipped over on his side and ignored the rest of their conversation. "My guess is that they need us to find someone or something in particular. That's what they usually put units like these together for anyways," Suki speculated. "What did you use to do before this, Tech Sergeant?" Sokka blurted out, it was late, and he didn't really have much patience for pleasantries. "I became a combat controller when I made sergeant like three years ago, I trained with the Rangers and I worked with them for a while until I began working with SF not too long ago." It was quite a resume for someone who looked so young; even Aang's rank seemed to be out of place due to his generally youthful appearance and attitude. All of which Sokka was sure would get under his skin at some point later on; his hand itched to slap him on the back of that bald head again. "I take it you're pretty good then?" Suki asked. Aang scoffed lightly, "Well I don't meant to brag; but I can guide a jet moving at 600 miles an hour firing its cannon on a small bunker within 100 yards of a friendly position. So yeah, I guess you could say I have a knack for this kind of stuff," Sokka could hear the grin in the Technical Sergeant's voice.

Suki glanced up at Sokka and gave him a very slight shrug, "Sounds good," she said before stripping down to her under shirt. Sokka tried to avert his eyes out of courtesy. He suddenly remembered why they separated men and women during boot camp; the natural biological urges they felt. "Lights out ladies and gents," he said as he slid off the top bunk to flip off the lights, Jet and Haru climbed into their bunks and went quiet. Once the living space was dark, Sokka did his best to make his way towards his bunk without stubbing his toe on one of the random boots that were strewn across the floor. They were too damn tired to line up their boots in a neat little row. Sokka climbed back up to his bunk, his muscles shouted in protest at their constant use even after being tortured for the past week. He flopped down on the mattress, not even bothering to slide under the covers. "Get some sleep, guys," Sokka called out in an officer's whisper. He needed some rest, and he'd be damned if a talkative zoomie was going to keep him awake.

Unfortunately, sleep did not come so easily to Sokka; usually he was asleep before his head hit the sack. However things were different that night, Sokka's mind kept drifting back to Russia, the Philippines, and Burma before that. Each operation had its own memory that stood out in Sokka's head. And for the most part, none of them were all that pleasant. After a few minutes Sokka could hear the light breathing below him that belonged to Aang. But the young man's snores were drowned out by Zuko's grumbling while he slept. Sokka could not make out anything clear, but he did hear a woman's name hidden amongst the fast moving, mashed-up syllables. "Mai," he heard him sigh in his slumber.

It was at night that Sokka usually thought about things, events that had happened back in his civilian life and his military career. He thought about his father, how he had tried to be such a big part of his life despite being away on assignments while his children grew up. His sister, Katara came to mind, he had always tried to be the best big brother that he could be and he could say that he had done a pretty good job at it. In fact he hesitated to enlist because of his sister, if his mother had not passed away when they were so young he would not have thought so much about it. Becoming a Marine seemed like the right thing for him to do, it was just a part of his childhood and teenage years. He grew up around them, moving around from base to base, trying not to feel lonely, doing his best to make friends, and get dates. His thoughts lingered on his mother, it always happened to him at night. There was not a single night during boot camp that she didn't enter his skull, whether it was through dreams or just trying to remember her face.

Katara popped back into his head, she matured so quickly once their mother had passed that Sokka was sure she'd be the one supporting him instead of the other way around. And sure enough his sister had taken the initiative and joined the Navy, once they found out she was a pre-med student she took advantage and became a surgeon after working at it for a few years. Sokka wondered what she could be up to.

A sudden patter on the roof above alerted Sokka to the fat drops of rain that had just begun to fall. He didn't mind the sound, in fact it comforted him; it gave a certain strange rhythm to his alien surroundings. A few minutes later his heavy eye lids began to flutter until sleep, and a nightmare finally over took him.

It was not a nightmare as much as it was the reliving of past events, past screw ups and according to Sokka's Bronze Star Commendation, of past heroism. The hiss of a passing round, followed by a snap as the follow up shot went wild. The shooter was firing on fully automatic, he was untrained. Sokka just didn't understand it, why were they fighting so hard? They knew they were going to either die or be captured by the Marines. Why were the insurgents still fighting? Was there anything worth fighting and dying for? Why didn't they give up? That was what Sokka thought in the Sea Knight before he, and his eight man recon team would jump out the back of the helicopter and into the waters just off the coast of the Philippines.

The water was fairly warm, and the moonless night helped to mask their approach as the Marines emerged from the water, quickly scanned the tree line with their thermals and melted into the trees. Sokka had been a Sergeant then, and if he had known what would happen that night he would have done things differently. He would have brought more ammo, he would've brought more batteries those things could have made a difference. Sokka would not have gotten that medal, but damn it those two boys wouldn't have gotten killed. And maybe, just maybe, he could get a full night's sleep instead of waking up to the damn sound of….

Rattling… Machine gunfire… Contact front! Sokka shot up in bed, searching for his weapon. It was strapped to his body, that's where he left it damn it! The smell: cordite, sweat, the mugginess of the air and the dried shit on his boots. Then the white linoleum floors came into view, and the dial in his head was slowly turned to zero. He shook his head, he was in Germany, his name was Sokka, a United States Marine, and he was safe. He repeated these things to himself over and over again. The shrink told him these kinds of things might happen to him. The nightmares were like tremors on a fault line, they were his mind's way of relieving psychological pressure. And if he stopped having them, they'd probably find their way into his daytime activities and he might not be able to function as an effective combat leader.

Sokka's blue eyes darted around in the darkness, it took them a second to adjust and when they did he realized one of the bunks was empty. The top one parallel to him; belonging to Staff Sergeant Townsend. He sighed quietly and placed his head back on the pillows, noticing that they were damp with his own sweat. After a few minutes he came to the conclusion that he was not getting back to sleep that night. He couldn't tell if the sun was out since there were no windows in the room they were in, so he quietly climbed down from the top bunk, his bare feet not making much noise. Sokka went through his ruck sack and found his watch; it was 0548 hours, just before sunrise. He glanced over at the sleeping figures and slipped into his cammies and boots. His PT gear wasn't with him, so heavy exercise probably wouldn't be in the schedule for today, that and he was still sore from Russia.

Stealthily stepping out, he scanned the hallway for activity and didn't see much other than an Airman milling about to his left. Sokka shut the door quietly, he was hungry, so the mess hall was where he needed to go. "Um, excuse me," Sokka called out to the Airmen, "do you know where I can find the mess hall?" The Airman cocked an eyebrow and glanced down at Sokka's pants. "Um, down this hall and make a left and then you make the first right you see, you can't miss it," the Airman said before disappearing. Sokka frowned and went over the instructions in his head. Maybe he should have worn the rest of his uniform and his rank insignia. But sure enough he did find the mess hall, which was churning with activity.

There were a lot of mouths to feed, and Sokka was sure as hell one of them. He garnered a few looks from the base personnel, it made him wonder if he really stuck out so much. Sokka piled his plate with protein, eggs, sausage, bacon and some more bacon. He nodded at the cooks and thanked them before scanning the mess hall for a place to sit, the less awkward the better. It took about a minute or two until Sokka found a seat, right in front of Suki. "Sir," she acknowledged his presence curtly but politely. Sokka glanced at the seat for a second before sitting down; this was probably going to be one of those awkward meals.

Sokka took a sip of coffee, reveling in the effects of the hot liquid and its caffeine before digging into his meal. "You're up fairly early, sir," Suki said between bites. So it seemed like she didn't want to suffer through a silent meal either. "Not as early as you though," Sokka replied, and it was true. Staff Sergeant Townsend was up way before him and he did not know why. Maybe she suffered from nightmares as well, it might have been that she was a light sleeper, or maybe it was just a force of habit. "I couldn't really sleep, the place is a little odd for me," Suki admitted to him. Sokka nodded, that was understandable. He barely got a wink of sleep during the first week at boot camp. He swore he could hear another recruit crying during that first night.

Sokka's stare traveled laterally and he noticed some people glancing at him and Suki rather conspicuously. Yeah, he should have worn his rank insignia he thought to himself. "We stick out here like a fat chick at an anorexia convention," Sokka muttered. Suki shot a surprised glare up at him, maybe that joke went too far. "You may be right," Suki nibbled on a piece of toast before looking sideways towards the same people Sokka had been referring to. "I'm the only female in civilian clothing here," she growled in annoyance. "Well I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be staring if they knew what you did for a living."

"That's true, but I'm not the sort to broadcast that kind of stuff," her blue eyes looked up at him.

"It's part of our profession not to talk about what we do." Sokka gave her a small smile.

"Absolutely," she smiled back.

A minute passed in silence as they both focused on eating before Suki brought up what it was Sokka did. "So you're a Marine?" she raised one of her eyebrows, awaiting an answer. Sokka nodded as he forced down the remnants of his last slice of toast. "Yeah, I became a Recon Marine as soon as I could. When I got promoted to Sergeant I went through selection and training for a billet in a Marine Special Operations Regiment. I was offered a field commission after my first mission. The rest; isn't really all that special." Sokka made sure to side step around any sort of attempt by Suki to figure out what had happened during his missions. He didn't know her well enough yet, and besides that he didn't like telling people stories about the things he saw and did. Sokka was sure many people like him could relate. "I'm not inexperienced in the least," Sokka finished. "I was commanding a rifle company because I figured that was where they needed me, so I asked for a transfer." Sokka paused for a moment and thought about his predicament. "But it seems like I get drawn into these sorts of assignments anyways," he grinned. "Next stop: Training," Sokka announced.

Suki nodded as she polished off the last bit of her meal. "They need to see if we can work together," Sokka looked down at his tray and realized that he had finished as well. He remembered getting more to eat though. Sokka motioned for Suki to hand him her tray so he could get rid of it for her but she practically waved him off and went to go take care of it herself. Sokka followed and they both decided to take a little walk around the base, maybe find a gym. Their pace was slow and methodical; they did not have any orders so they did not have anywhere to go. All they had to do to pass the time at that moment was conversation. "So how long have you been in the SAS?" Sokka asked. "I'd say a little over three years," Suki didn't have to think about it, "I was with the Paras before that. You do know who the Paras are don't you?" she unconsciously raised an eyebrow at him, giving her features a bit of an attitude. Sokka smirked, "Yes, I do. We had an exchange program with them when I was in the infantry, they were a good bunch of guys" Sokka paused for a moment as the memory came to mind. There might have been a chance that he met Suki while she was with the Paras. "We haven't met before, have we?" Sokka asked.

She shook her head, "Not that I recall, sir. Did you get a little nervous there?" she gave him a mischievous smile. She was trying to ease the general tension between people who had to suddenly work together; it was very professional of her. And it was working. "Well yeah, if we had met before this mess and I didn't remember it'd be an awkward experience for us both right now, but I'm sure we'll get a chance to know everyone over the next few weeks, or months. However long it is they plan on keeping this unit together." Someone tapped Sokka on the shoulder and caught him by surprise; he turned and came face to face with Zuko. "Sir, Staff Sergeant," he said acknowledging both Sokka and Suki respectively. "I was looking for the both of you." Sokka could see the bags under the Chief Warrant Officer's eyes, more under the untouched eye than the scarred one though. "You think there's a phone around here? I want to call home," Zuko said groggily. That reminded Sokka that he should call home as well, in fact maybe he should remind everyone else to do so.

"Um, I'm sure you could ask around or something. You gotta call the girlfriend?" Sokka teased. Zuko shook his head, "No, the wife actually." Sokka was caught by surprise, how was it that a Delta Force operator found the time to keep a marriage going while he was usually called away on missions? It was a question he himself could never answer about his life. The Corps seemed to just take over everything else, romantic relationships, fell by the wayside. Yue had been one of those.

Zuko moved off and continued his search for a phone he could use to call his wife, Sokka and Suki continued to walk around the base. They traded fairly basic information, their age was the same; thirty-two and they both shared an interest in the martial arts although Sokka had to admit that she knew more than him. They both did their best to avoid the look they got from base personnel, the staring stopped after Sokka fetched his rank insignia and walked around in full utility uniform. Although Suki did catch a few glances from male Air Force personnel; and Sokka couldn't blame them. She stuck out, and she was very attractive if not a little intimidating but that may have been because Sokka knew that she was SAS. They ran into Toph, who was speaking to Haru. Sokka was pleased to see that they were all getting along and that would probably make his job a lot easier.

"So, rumors are that we'll be out of here by tomorrow," Toph said to Sokka. She seemed rather comfortable around everyone, regardless of rank, or age.

"Rumors are exactly that: rumors," Sokka replied.

"Well, I hope they didn't bring us here just to sit around and look pretty," Haru retorted. It was annoying to think that one's unit was out in the field fighting while he was sitting in an air conditioned building doing nothing.

There was a sudden commotion as a team of doctors suddenly rushed out on to the tarmac and made a bee line for a plane as Toph, Haru, Sokka and Suki looked on through a window. Wounded men came pouring out of it the moment the ramp was down. Torn bodies and tattered uniforms, attached to IV bags. Some were lucid and remained quiet as they were rolled out, white bandages with brown or red stains. Others were unconscious, their wounds too painful for them to remain awake. But once the wounded were off, another plane landed and the dead in all of their glory were unloaded. Body bags; shapeless lumps of meat, hidden by zippers and plastic. The stench, sealed in.

The special operations members looked on in frustration. "I hope they get us out of here quick," Toph growled. "Because I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather be training right now instead of jerkin' it around here." Sokka nodded in agreement, the sooner they got out into the field, the sooner this conflict would end. Fewer lives would be lost. Suddenly the Air Force Pararescue Jumpers motto leapt into his mind; _That Others May Live_. Maybe in some strange way, that motto applied to what they all did. Sokka remembered his first time in combat, and certainly hoped it did apply.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Stateside**

Fort Bragg, North Carolina; proud home of the Airborne and the Special Operations Forces covering 251 square miles and the new home of a rag tag group of operators from different services. Sokka had never been there before; he had been to Fort Benning though when he attended Jump School which was mandatory for all Recon candidates. Luckily, North Carolina seemed to welcome them with beautiful weather, blue skies, decent cloud coverage and a comfortable breeze. Sokka looked up toward the sky and remembered how wind played hell with him on his first real jump. It almost blew him off course.

He was once again drawing odd looks from people, but luckily he had gotten his hands on his service uniform so he was proudly wearing it amongst a large population of Army personnel. Besides, his uniform was green; it shouldn't have caused too much trouble until he remembered that the Army had switched their service uniforms to blue not too long ago. While they were all officially under the command of SOCOM which was based at MacDill Air Force Base in Florida, SOCOM had decided to station the task force at Fort Bragg since General Iroh would be based along with them there. And Sokka did not mind, Camp Lejeune was in the same state so he was bound to run into some Marines if he ever went on leave. Or if they decided to stick around Jacksonville, that place was a ghost town.

"You don't look half bad in a service uniform, sir," Toph called out to Sokka. They had had more time to get to know each other over the past couple of days and she had grown on him. Very blunt, if not a little vulgar, but they were in the military, not elementary school so he didn't really mind. "Thanks, the rest of you don't look half bad either. Even with those things on your head." Sokka pointed towards the tan beret on Toph's head which matched Suki's. She grinned at him and removed it as she followed him and Zuko indoors. Their covers came off right away. Sokka approached the Specialist seated behind one of the desks, she was kind of cute. "Specialist," he began since he couldn't get a good enough glimpse at her nametag, "I'm here to speak to General Iroh Long." Sokka caught the Specialist's glance go past him, "Yeah, actually all of us are here to speak with him." Sokka gave her a polite smile before she went off to find the General.

They didn't have to wait long; in fact they hadn't even taken a seat outside the office before they were called in. They stood at attention after they entered and the General waved for them to take a seat. Sokka had to admit that General Iroh Long was the most laid back officer he had ever encountered. It might have had to do with the fact that the General had already reached a position of prestige and no longer wished to make his presence known among his peers like other senior officers. Sokka had encountered plenty of Colonels and Majors that would try to blow things out of proportion so they could glorify an action on a report and possibly secure a recommendation for promotion for themselves. "I hope that Fort Bragg is proving to be comfortable enough for you, Captain," the General seated himself as Sokka and Zuko took the seats right in front of the General's desk. It seemed that he had more than two people come into his office a lot so he had two more chairs up against a wall; which Suki and Toph took.

"It's a nice enough base, sir. I'm sure I'll adjust accordingly," Iroh smiled and looked down at a stack of papers he had been examining prior to them coming in. "Well, now that all of you are acquainted enough, I should let you know that as soon as we begin to run exercises none of you will wear anything that can identify you. That means that any sort of identification and rank insignias need to come off," he glanced at Zuko, "some of you are already aware of this." Sokka wondered if he should have seen Iroh by himself, there were certain things he needed to bring up but right now that would have to wait. "Sir, we would all like to know why it is you're putting this task force together," the General was not surprised by Sokka's question. "Well, to solve the situation in Russia of course, among other things," the ambiguity of the answer sort of got under Sokka's skin. He had once read that if orders were not followed correctly it was because someone didn't issue them clearly. "What other things?" Sokka evened out his tone so he wouldn't sound annoyed. General Iroh sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Captain, you will know about your objectives when the time is right," unease coursed through the room and the General caught it. "I understand that this makes all of you uneasy, but there's a reason for this. Our missions come straight from the top and we do not want any leaks." He paused and allowed his statement to sink in. "Do you understand me?" they all said "Yes sir," in unison.

"Very good," he continued, "now Technical Sergeant Vinluan is a bit busy finding us one pilot in particular to serve the needs of this unit. And I'm sure you all have gotten to know each other well enough so you can begin to train here," Iroh eyed them cautiously before telling them they were free to go to their barracks. Sokka asked for permission to speak with him privately as everyone left. The General told him to stay and Sokka brought up something that had been troubling him. "Sir, I have a question that you may find a bit personal," the General gave him a small smile as he nodded his head. "Go right ahead, Captain," Sokka chose his words carefully.

"It's about Chief Warrant Officer Long, sir."

"Is he giving the unit a problem," the older man cocked an eyebrow suspiciously.

"No, not at all, sir. I was just wondering if the fact that he would indirectly be under your command bothered you."

The General scratched his knuckles as he thought about the right way to answer what Sokka had just brought up. "Son, Zuko was selected for this mission for a reason. I did not pick him, someone with much more power did." Sokka wondered who had orchestrated this entire thing to begin with. "All I know is this, Captain," Iroh continued, "I will not be the one making the calls out in the field at the end of the day, I'll mostly be a voice in your ear giving you objectives and updating intelligence. The unit belongs to you once you're on board that helicopter," the older officer must have noted some alarm in Sokka's features because what he said next seemed to be an attempt to diffuse any feelings of nausea that might have begun to besiege Sokka's stomach.

"I was in your position not too long ago, Captain," he seemed to realize what he had just said, "very well maybe it was long ago when I went out into the field, but the point is that I know how it feels to make calls that no one else wants to make. I know what it is like to send people you've gotten to know well to their deaths. It is a burden that not many people can carry." Iroh stood up and glared out the window behind his desk, Sokka wondered if it was just for dramatic effect. "I have the utmost confidence in your abilities, Captain," he continued, "the days where the special operations community would scoff at Marine attempts to integrate into SOCOM are long over. But after this operation, any shadow of a doubt will be erased from their minds."

Sokka took a moment to look around the office; there were plenty of pictures a lot of them in black and white. Groups of men posing in a fire base somewhere in Vietnam, Sokka even caught a glimpse of a young Zuko in a frame on Iroh's desk. "The Chief is my nephew, Captain. Make no mistake about that, he is family and I do love him. But he is also a fine soldier, and I expect him to be that under your command or mine."

"He has yet to make me think anything else, sir," Sokka assured him.

"Good, well you can use the base's facilities as you like and schedule training as you see fit," Iroh smiled as Sokka stood up. He extended his hand toward the Marine before he made a movement to leave. Sokka took it and gave it a firm shake, "I know the right man was selected for this operation, Captain. I know that for a fact." Sokka nodded and made his way out of the office, running right into Zuko. "So when do we start training?" he asked enthusiastically. "Shit, geez! Do you always do that to people?" it was the third time that Zuko had surprised Sokka in such a manner and it was starting to get on his nerves. "Sorry, sir," Zuko said, "I have a tendency to do that." Sokka sighed and motioned for Zuko to walk with him. "It's the middle of the afternoon, Chief. I doubt we should start training as it is, when we do though, it'll start in the morning. Where'd the females get to?" Sokka didn't see either Toph or Suki.

Zuko shrugged, "Toph said she was going to get set in her barracks and Suki said something about phoning home," they stepped out into the North Carolina sun once again. "Have you seen the bald one around here?" Sokka was referring to Aang. "He's still looking for that pilot we heard about, he's supposed to be a badass," Zuko rolled his eyes slightly at the thought, very rarely were "badass people" ever really badasses. "Do you at least know the guy's name?" Zuko squinted as he tried to remember. "Damn, it starts with a T if I remember right; Aang was just gushing about this guy."

"Well where can we find the midget?" Sokka said, referring to Aang's height.

"You're asking like I have a little bell and a leash on the guy," Zuko quipped.

"Fuck it, he can find us whenever he's ready. Where are you staying?" Sokka huffed.

The Chief Warrant Officer produced a cigarette and placed it between his lips, "I'm staying with my wife; she lives on the base so it's convenient for me." He ignited the end of the cigarette with a Zippo lighter he had hidden in his pocket. "You don't mind do you?" Zuko motioned towards the cigarette. Sokka shook his head, as much as he didn't like smoking, he had grown accustomed to it since so many Marines he had served with smoked. Although dipping was a more popular way to get their tobacco and nicotine fix. There was no need for a lighter, and they could chew it at night without the fear of giving away their position. Sokka still found the buildup of brown saliva and tobacco juice disgusting though, so he refrained from partaking in any sort of nicotine fix. Personally, Sokka's poison was coffee.

"Have you been married long?" Zuko smiled as he recalled some memory at Sokka's question. He shook his head, "Well, I married her four years ago, but I've known her since we were children." Sokka smiled and returned a passing soldier's salute. "Do you have any of your own?" Sokka was curious if his second in command had any little tikes running around, but Zuko shook his head, disappointed. "No, but that's not to say we're not trying, sir. What about you, sir? Is there a Mrs. Kunayak?"

"Sadly no, and there are no kids either. I just got absorbed in the military life, that's all."

"Hm, like so many of us." Sokka mused. "Exactly, Chief, exactly," Sokka saw Zuko's gaze go past him and the cigarette was suddenly extinguished and had been flicked from his fingers. "Speaking of my wife," he half-whimpered. "Check your six," he muttered.

Sokka cautiously maneuvered his body so he could at least get a good look at her with his peripheral vision. He caught a slim feminine figure in civilian clothing, long black hair and pale skin, much like Zuko's. Other than that he could not make out many details. "Anything I should know about her?" Sokka whispered to Zuko who replied through gritted teeth. "Be nice, she's polite enough as it is."

"So you stop by to see your uncle first and then your wife?" her voice was husky and filled with annoyance as well as a hint of relief. She completely ignored Sokka and kissed Zuko, the Marine averted his eyes and held back a chuckle. The situation brought back memories of coming back home to Yue from a deployment. Zuko's wife pulled away, "Zuko, have you been smoking?" Sokka winced as he knew that a verbal lashing was coming up as Zuko stumbled for the right words. "We'll talk about that later," she whispered. "And who's the Marine?" Sokka smiled and extended his hand to her, "Captain Sokka Kunayak, United States Marine Corps, pleasure to meet you ma'am." He did not expect her grip to be as strong as it was, in fact her handshake hurt Sokka's hands a little bit. "Oh, you're the one Zuko mentioned over the phone, I'm Mai, his wife," she didn't really smile much; it was more like a slight twitch at the corner of her lips. "I figured as much since, he's mentioned you before," Sokka was hoping that he could bail Zuko out of any sort of trouble he might have been in because of the cigarette.

Mai was an attractive woman, Sokka estimated her age to have been in her late twenties or early thirties. She stood about two or three inches shorter than Zuko, thin with serious feature and amber colored eyes. Sokka could already predict that their children were going to have the same eyes as well, and he was no doctor. "You know we don't see many Marines around here," Mai said before gazing up at Zuko. She looked happier than Zuko had described her, but he could definitely see how she had been a Goth through the majority of their adolescence. "I've realized that, I've been asking the higher ups to base us in Camp Lejeune but they turned me down." Zuko chuckled as Mai smirked; he seemed to brood a lot less around her. "It's a lot easier just bringing you here, sir," Mai whispered something in his ear and Zuko suddenly decided it was time to leave. "Well sir, if you don't mind I think it's time I saw how the house is doing." He swiftly saluted Sokka who returned the salute just as quickly before saying good bye to Mai once again. The Captain did his best to hold back his laughter as Mai practically picked up her husband and carried him to the house. "They sure won't miss an opportunity to make a baby," Sokka said to himself as he made his way to his barrack.

The barracks at Fort Bragg were in decent enough shape, he and his unit got individual accommodations so it was a much needed upgrade from their makeshift barracks in Germany. He closed the door behind him and didn't waste any time stripping off his service uniform, as much as he liked wearing them, it was nice to get comfortable. Sokka was happy to see that General Iroh had had his personal effects sent over from Camp Lejeune; his television, his laptop, several books on engineering and military theory, a few pictures and his iPod and its dock. He got settled and set things up the way he liked them, his books and laptop on the desk along with his pictures and the television was soon mounted on the wall. Sokka had just changed into his favorite pair of jeans and a t-shirt when someone knocked on his door.

He cursed as he got up and answered, "Good afternoon, Captain," the English accent gave away the identity of the visitor, as if the striking blue eyes didn't. "Staff Sergeant, you've already settled yourself in?" She nodded and it was then that Sokka noticed that she had changed into civilian clothing as well, and that was what he had usually seen her wearing to begin with anyways. "I have actually," Sokka watched as Suki glanced past his shoulder and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't waste any time, do you, sir?"

"None at all, in fact you can expect training to start tomorrow morning."

"Well that's good, because I think Sergeant Bei-Fong is getting a bit rambunctious."

"If that's the case then she can go to the firing range," Sokka dismissed.

Suki bit her bottom lip; "Sergeant Bei-Fong was sort of implying something else actually," Sokka raised an eyebrow. "Well," he suddenly realized what his team leader was implying, "there is a bar here at the base you guys can go to. I heard a few soldiers talking about it when we got here, so you guys should fit right in." There was an awkward silence because Sokka understood the subtext of what Suki was saying and she realized that he was basically blowing her off, in a polite officer-like manner. "Sir, we're sort of inviting you. Everyone else is doing their own thing; Zuko is with his wife, and the other two are going out with other Green Berets later tonight." Sokka mulled the proposition over, "We're training tomorrow, so we can't get too messed up, alright?" Toph suddenly popped her head into the doorway, "So that's a yes then, sir?" Sokka sighed and nodded his head, "We'll leave in twenty minutes," he smiled. Things were going to get interesting.

General Iroh Long sat behind his desk and took a sip of his steaming tea. Many found it odd that the legendary officer enjoyed the drink but he found it to be a fine alternative to coffee. He had to admit that trying new teas had become a hobby of his. He looked down at the paperwork he had been filling out, while the file would never appear for the public record, a file had to be maintained for the task force and their operations. Granted it would always be stamped "Classified-Top Secret" and even then large amounts of the reports would be blacked out. Someday in the future though, the unit's exploits would be exposed to the public, but that would be long after they were all dead.

A knock on his door snapped Iroh out of his focus on getting the paper work done. "Come in!" he called out. He looked up to see Rear Admiral Pakku Cupik walking in; Iroh smiled at him and stood up to greet his Navy counterpart. "Admiral, back so soon? How was your trip?" the Rear Admiral gave him a twitch of a smile and nodded. "The trip was okay, and it yielded us a new task force member." He signaled for someone to come in.

The man stood a little over six feet tall, tan skin and brown eyes with an enlisted Navy uniform clothing a powerful looking body. "This is Hospital Corpsman First Class William Murphy," Iroh shook both their hands and glanced at Murphy's chest. "A SEAL then?" Murphy's cover had been removed so he wouldn't salute indoors, Iroh reminded himself. "Yes, sir. It's an honor to meet you," the Corpsman look flustered; no doubt he was a bit unfocused since his change of surroundings. "Take a seat, sailor," Iroh motioned toward one of the empty chairs.

Iroh flipped the file he was going through shut, he did not want the newest member of the task force to know more about what their main objective was, not before the field commanders anyway. "I trust that the Admiral told you why we had to pull you out of your unit before you shipped out again?" Iroh offered the Corpsman some tea and much to his delight he accepted, he liked the sailor already.

"Uh, yes sir, he has. And I'm honored to have been selected by officers of your caliber," Murphy said before blowing on the tea and taking a polite sip. He eyed it afterwards, realizing it was not coffee as he had thought.

The older man smiled, he realized that Corpsman Murphy was a very well-spoken man; he'd guess that the SEAL read plenty of books and not all of them having to do with his profession. A razor sharp intellect coupled with excellent reflexes and almost superhuman physical endurance was what made for a great operator. The public had this image burned in their minds that all members of the special operations community were muscle bound automatons that lumbered into combat with a heavy machine gun, firing wildly from the hip into helpless mobs of enemies. And in a way Iroh was thankful for that image that Hollywood had perpetuated. It allowed them to go about their jobs quietly, the way it was supposed to be. No one would suspect the lean fellow who has an interest in literature or engineering would also be a warrior trained to the peak of lethality. It was Iroh's desire to work with the best that had drawn him into the Special Forces, as well as other egotistical reasons he felt during his youth, but that had been so long ago.

Pakku leaned toward the Corpsman as he spoke, "Corpsman Murphy, I am sure that you understand the meaning of top secret." As usual, Pakku's voice was laced with some form of intimidation. It wasn't that he tried, it was just the slight sarcastic tone of his voice that made it seem like he knew something that no one else did; some terrible secret that he could bring up to crush a man's career. "Absolutely, sir," Murphy replied calmly. "Very good, then I believe all that's left here is the paperwork and after that we'll have you sent to your accommodations."

"When do I get to meet the rest of the unit sir?"

"Well I'm sure you'll meet them soon enough, they're a nice enough bunch," Pakku assured the newest member of Joint Task Force Alpha-One.

Sokka was doing his best not to fall into the usual traps bars set in front of him when he got back from a deployment. He learned years ago that he had a thing for liquor, he could hold it fairly well but when he did eventually get full on drunk it was very embarrassing. He couldn't usually remember what happened during his inebriated periods but his friends told him enough to make him blush.

According to his friends, Sokka was a very happy drunk, in fact he talked a lot more than usual and he already liked to talk when he was sober. They also mentioned that he liked to dance which made him thankful that he could not remember his drunken escapades. He did not consider himself the best dancer.

He glanced down at the two empty shot glasses and smiled, it seemed like a solid start, his vision wasn't blurring and his speech was still normal. Besides, he was an officer and he was out drinking with two non-coms, female non-coms at that. "So, you have a problem with the British military?" Suki spouted after her fourth drink, she was not drunk but her lips were a little loose. She was bringing up something she would have kept to herself had her reserve not been inhibited by the alcohol that was now coursing through all of their veins.

"Well I never said that," Sokka said, taken aback by her question.

"Yes, you did. I heard you, on the plane. You said somethin' about 'a limey'," she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I never said anything like that," Sokka knew he was a bad liar.

"You know what? I call bullshit on that!" Toph said with a proud grin. "I always know when an officer is lying!"

Sokka frowned at them, even in his military life he could not seem to win in an argument against a woman. Maybe Bato did have a point about that after all. "No, you said something about me, damn it." Suki was not going to back off at all. Sokka sighed, his alcohol laced breath mingling with the stale air of the bar. The rustic setting and furniture, the walls adorned with pictures of decorated units and individuals, many of them had been killed in action. Sokka blended in for the most part, as long as he kept his tattoos covered, no one could really tell he was a Marine. "Ah, he does have a problem with me," Suki muttered to Toph.

The Marine felt blood rush to his face, "I do not have a problem with you." Suki rolled her eyes, "Then what was the limey comment about?" Sokka would have to answer the question tactfully. And that was fairly difficult to do with four shots of liquor in his system. "Or is the female angle the thing that gets to you?" Suki's voice oozed something different on the second question. There was an element of intimidation, or accusation in her voice as well as a hint of venom that Sokka picked up. "What does that have to do with anything?" he said. "Did you hear that, Staff Sergeant?" Toph asked, "Our commanding officer answered your question with another question."

"Okay, now you're just fucking with me, Bei-Fong," Sokka glared at her.

"It's what I do, sir," she said with a lopsided smile as she ordered another round.

"Call me, Sokka," he thought about it for a moment, "actually all of you can call me that."

The trio wasn't on duty, so Sokka didn't mind them using his first name in fact he wasn't all that fond of titles at all, unless he felt the need to stroke his own ego. "So, Sokka, could you answer a question for me?" Toph hiccupped as she cracked a peanut open. "Shoot," Sokka signaled the bartender for one more drink. "You've mentioned your father before," Toph began. "Why didn't you opt for OCS right out of boot camp?" It was a question that Sokka had answered several times before, but it was a reasonable question so he rarely became annoyed at it. "That's a simple answer actually; I just wanted to be an enlisted man. I saw something cool about it, and my father didn't really have a problem with it. But, he was happy to hear about my commission." Sokka replied. He downed one more shot and announced that he was done for the night. The Marine officer was surprised by how well he was holding up.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," Sokka said as he stood up and motioned toward the bartender to let him know that he was ready to pay. "Already, sir?" Suki asked, a slight pout forming on her face. The SAS operator that Sokka had gotten to know over the past few days had taken a vacation, in her place was a slightly inebriated attractive thirty-year old. Suki was lucky enough to look younger though. "We might start training tomorrow, its best that we quit while we're ahead." Toph and Suki looked at each other; the Captain had a point, even if they both had thought about it already. They wanted to relax for at least one night in the states before they got down to business. The two females sighed and paid for their drinks before leaving, Toph opted to pay for Suki since she had yet to obtain any American currency.

The trio made their way back to the barracks; they walked well enough to not attract the attention of any sort of official. But if someone got closer to them then they might have been able to smell the alcohol on their breaths.

"Seriously sir, do you have a problem with me being a woman?" Suki asked.

"Shit, you're not going to drop it are you?" Sokka rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately when he felt vertigo almost overtake him.

"I'd just like some honesty from my commanding officer, that's all," Suki replied.

"Well I don't have a problem with you being a chick, either of you for that matter," Sokka stopped and looked around suddenly realizing that he needed to urinate. "All that matters is how you perform in the field. You two are the least of my worries." Sokka's thoughts lingered on Jet and how arrogance could be a dangerous thing when working as a team. Arrogant people rarely turned out to be team players, but how could Jet have been selected for Special Forces training let alone complete it without being a good team player? It was something that worried him even with hard liquor in his system, and it was starting to piss him off.

"You'll have to let your hair grow, you know that right?" Toph mentioned before spitting something out on to the ground. Sokka ran his hand through his crew cut, it looked too military and if they were sent on a mission where they needed to blend into the civilian population he'd stick out like a sore thumb. "Yeah, I guess I will," Sokka then touched his chin. Maybe growing a beard was also in order. But that would only come after he was sure that they were ready to be deployed. "Tomorrow we get to the serious shit," Sokka announced as they reached the barracks. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon a few hours before; there was still activity where ever they looked.

Toph ducked into her room quickly, she had the right idea, sleeping off what they had drunk. "She's pretty tough for someone her height," Sokka said to Suki. "Well she's a Ranger; I reckon that counts for something." An awkward silence passed between them before Sokka heaved a stressed sigh. "Look, Suki, about the whole limey thing," she turned her attention towards him. "I didn't mean anything by it," he swallowed his pride. Apologizing was often the most difficult thing to do, especially when a person was put into a leadership position. "I'm sorry if it offended you. It's no way to treat a fellow operator. British or female, it doesn't matter to me at all." She gave him a small smile and patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, sir. I wasn't going to make something big out of it, but it's nice to know that my gender isn't an issue." Sokka nodded as he looked down at his feet.

"Um, yeah, that's good. Uh, we should get some shut eye."

"Yes, we should," she moved off to her room. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Staff Sergeant."

They disappeared into their respective rooms, too damn lazy to brush their teeth. Suki barely had time to strip down before falling face first on to her bed and dozing off. One door down Sokka tore off his polo and tossed it into a duffel bag he used as a makeshift hamper. He kept the lights off as he slipped on something more comfortable to sleep in, thin orange rays of light lanced into the room through the curtains. Sokka caught a glimpse of his own tattoo on the inside of his right bicep. _The Strength of the Pack is the Wolf_, it read around the MSOR insignia. Sokka yawned and closed his eyes, his last thoughts were of C Company in Kiev and how they could be doing. Knowing that he left his Marines in good hands, he slept well that night without a single bad memory in mind to haunt him in the form of a nightmare.


	5. Chapter 4

**I do not own any of the characters from "Avatar: The Last Airbender", they belong to their respective creators. However, all original characters do belong to me.**

**Chapter 4: Classified**

So it seemed that the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center was not enough for the needs of JTF Alpha-One. Sokka woke up at 0430 before going to the General and then going around and personally getting everyone else up. He was rough about it, they were training for deployment and odds were that they would be put into situations where they would not be comfortable. It was best that they got used to that real fast if they had forgotten already.

Ignoring his own mild hangover, Sokka proceeded to lead them to an assembly area where they were promptly loaded on buses and driven to an undisclosed location. General Iroh had not told him where the camp was, all he had said was that Fort Bragg did not offer them sufficient secrecy for their training and selection. The blacked out windows planted a seed of apprehension in all of them, as did the fact that they were not allowed to bring any personal belongings other than their cammies. To add further stress, there was a new member to their little group, Hospital Corpsman William M. Murphy. A Navy SEAL no doubt.

"One hell of an introduction, huh Doc?" Sokka said as he extended his hand towards the young man. He was taller than Sokka by an inch or two, but odds were that he was still shorter than Jet who they had realized was the tallest member of the unit. "Yes it is, sir. I'm sorry I didn't meet with you earlier, it took a while for my orders to come through." Sokka patted the sailor on the shoulder, "No need to apologize, I'm not even in charge of this whole thing yet. Were you in Russia?" Sokka asked. The corpsman nodded as he extended his hand and made formal introductions to the rest of the task force members. "I was; I'm assuming most of us were anyways." Everyone nodded in agreement. They all had top secret clearance, so they could say certain things amongst each other although they could not reveal too many details.

The bus began to slow down, the brakes whined and the hydraulics hissed before it jerked forward a bit. All of them filed out of the bus, Sokka took in his surroundings the moment his eyes adjusted to the brightness. They were probably still in the state, he figured that much. On top of that they had not been in the bus long enough to make it into the next state and they were not in South Carolina since Sokka knew they had not been driving south. The humidity in the air and the moist mulch beneath their boots said enough. "Form up!" called out a froggy voice. Sokka immediately recognized the type; scarred vocal chords brought on by long periods of times spent screaming, most likely at new recruits.

Everyone complied and formed up in a line, they stood at attention as a trio of intimidating looking men emerged from a small building. They all wore utility uniforms that lacked names on them, only ranks were visible. Sokka sized up a few of the men; the majority of them were in their late twenties to mid-forties. All of them were still in good shape and held a steely glare that could only belonged to a seasoned veteran of the special operations community. Another thing that Sokka noticed was that they all belonged to different branches, a Master Chief Petty Officer from the Navy in one spot, a Master Sergeant from the Army over by one building. Sokka even spotted a Master Gunnery Sergeant from the Corps near a series of logs in a neat row. But it was a Colonel from the Army that drew most of Sokka's attention.

He stood calmly as everyone filed out, and it was then that Sokka and the rest of his unit noticed that there were at least five other buses carrying people. In all there were roughly forty people forming up. Sokka took another quick count and realized there were at least twelve instructors. The Marine shot a worried look at Zuko and Suki, apprehension was thick in the air, an apprehension they were all familiar with. They had experienced it twice in their lives; the first time had been during boot camp, the second time had been during training and selection for the special operations groups. Sokka thought that they were already a task force on paper, a unit just waiting to train together for the first time, he suddenly regretted all those drinks he had had the night before.

It took them a few seconds to orient themselves and finally fall into line and stand at attention. There was a tense silence that hung in the air as birds chirped in the morning sun. "Good morning," the Colonel said in a raspy voice. "I am Colonel Piandao," his tan skin was rife with wrinkles after years in the field but he still had hair and a goatee that was non-regulation. "I am in charge of training operations here in Camp Phoenix. You were all selected from the very best the military has to offer, all of you have experienced hardship and combat." Piandao walked in front of them, he stopped in front of Suki. "Some of you do not belong to this country's military, but that makes you all the more qualified to be here. But regardless of rank or age, you will all be treated the same: as students. Whenever you think that you might not be able to make it, remember that you already have all that it takes to be here. You can make it. The only barriers left here are mental." He sighed and looked out at them from his position. "I'm now going to hand you over to Command Master Chief Joseph Lapham."

The Colonel motioned to a stout man in his late thirties with a powerful build and dark skin. He moved quietly among them and looked them over; the man did not say anything for what seemed like an hour. When he spoke up, his voice was clear and powerful, "Like the Colonel said, you all are here because you are the best at what you do. And here, I plan to put your skills to the test. Your individual service records all speak of your excellence but I have yet to see it first hand," he stopped in front of Sokka and glared at him. "And I… am not… impressed… by letters on a page. I plan on breaking all of you down, even though most of you think that isn't possible anymore after going through selection. But soon you will see it is very possible."

The Command Master Chief moved on and looked over another man further down the line. Sokka was a bit confused; he was not sure if they were all going to be part of the same task force or if they were going to be in separate units. "If at any time you feel you are not up to the challenge of being a part of this black tie affair; drop on request, ring the bell and get out of my sight. That contract you signed will be torn up and you never saw this place. We don't need your weakness here." He waited for a second, analyzing everyone's facial expressions, "Are there any takers?" There was silence. "Very good, Gunny, welcome the candidates."

It was at that point that several instructors opened up on them with hoses, hitting all of them with streams of freezing water. They were instructed to run to the pit and form up once again, every inch of the way there the instructors harassed them with hoses and screams telling them that they were not moving fast enough. Sokka tried to remember the mental refuge to which he had retreated during his Recon training. It was a place in which he could still think and solve a problem, but detach himself from his body enough so he wouldn't feel the pain and discomfort that the instructors were about to bring down on his head.

A slight breeze was not helping matters when it came to their soaked uniforms, no doubt they'd continue this into the night as the temperatures dropped. "Drop! Half way!" One of the instructors barked, most of them dropped down to the push-up position and stayed that way. Some hesitated and were not sure what it was the instructors were requesting; the instructors quickly made sure that they would not forget. Sokka looked to his left and caught a glimpse of Aang as he smiled at him before an instructor walked past and kicked a bunch of mulch into his face, "Do you find something funny, Vinluan? Wipe that smirk off your face!" Sokka heard one of the instructors say that they had memorized all of their names and ranks, that way they could drop them from the program faster. "You'll be participating in black operations, no one can know of your presence so you will never be able to quit! Giving up, means death! On your bellies!"

Everyone dropped onto their stomachs, their faces in the mulch. "Roll to the right!" Once again, as some of them complied, others temporarily made a mistake and went left instead. All of them began to regret eating anything in the morning after forty minutes of rolling to the right, jumping up, and dropping down. And then rolling to the left again before jumping up again, some of them puked as they rolled, making a mess of things. The entire time, neither the instructors nor the hoses let up. After an hour of doing the rolling exercise they were paired off into couples and told to try and take each other down. Sokka faced Aang while Suki faced off against Jet, Zuko against Murphy, and Haru against Toph.

Sokka felt a bit odd about going hand to hand with a team mate, but he wouldn't strike Aang. Just toss him if anything, the mulch was not hard and the only risk of injury they ran was a splinter of dirt in their eyes. Sokka and Aang went at it, and much to the Marine's surprise, the younger man was very talented when it came to close quarters combat or CQC. The first four engagements were all in Aang's favor, Sokka ended up with his face in the mulch each time. By the fifth attempt, Sokka used his height and leverage to flip Aang and throw him to the ground on his back. When he had first started practicing hand to hand combat, Sokka had relied a lot on brute strength rather than inertia and leverage to take down opponents. It took him a while to get that through his head.

Out of the corner of his eye Sokka saw his team mates sparring and was surprised to see the shortest member of the squad, Toph, holding her own against a much larger Haru. He caught a snapshot of Murphy with Zuko on his shoulders, ready to toss him down and Suki using small joint manipulation to take Jet down. They continued slugging it out for two hours until they were told to bear crawl and then run until they were told to stop. "C'mon, I know which one of you are officers, I'm not seeing any leadership here!" Command Master Chief Lapham said. "Let's go, sir," he told Sokka. "You've been through this kind of stuff before, or do you want to quit already? You should go ahead and do it, you can go back to what you used to do, there's no shame in it!" Sokka huffed as he ran in formation, the mind games were worse than the physical torture they went through. "You don't have to endure a week of this, none of you do!" Lapham said to everyone as he kept pace with them.

"Uh oh! It seems that Corporal Simms has been hit! We have a casualty and we can't leave him behind!" he pointed towards one man and then told Sokka to carry him for as long as they ran. As Sokka's head throbbed and his muscles began to burn, he did his best to put any doubt out of his mind. He wanted to be there.

From a few yards away, General Iroh watched and frowned at what he saw as the candidates disappeared over the hill. "It's a bit redundant to put them through something like this, Pakku; it's a waste of our time as well." A streaming cup of tea rested in his hands, he breathed in the pleasing aroma and sighed. "Iroh, do you remember when we first served together?" Pakku asked as he joined his old friend next to the window. "How can I forget? Grenada pops into my head now and then, why do you ask?" Iroh did his best to try and remember some sort of detail about that particular operation.

"We were so young, back then," Pakku said. "Proud and foolish even, but skilled none the less."

"If I recall, our units did not exactly work well together," Iroh said with a nostalgic smile.

Pakku nodded, "Exactly," he motioned toward the candidates. "We need to make sure that they know that they're working with a unit they can lean on. We need to do everything possible to spare them the challenges we went through." Iroh took a sip of tea and thought about Grenada. It had seemed like such an odd thing to having Operational Detachment Alpha 275 (ODA 275) link up with a SEAL unit for a classified operation no one had heard about even after decades had passed. "Egos get in the way of things," Iroh muttered. Pakku nodded in agreement, "Yes, they do. Besides, it's always nice to knock them off balance with a little torture," Pakku chuckled.

Iroh turned back toward a file he had sitting on a metal desk, he set down his tea and picked up the file. "It seems that the CIA can't handle their own screw ups these days," Iroh showed Pakku one of the pictures in the file. "Are all of them defectors?" he asked, Iroh nodded. "All but one although they are all well trained. According to General Haldeman's last conversation with Langley, they said that they are spread out too thin and that the budget cuts have been hitting them hard." Pakku snorted, "The budget cuts have been hitting everyone hard, what gives them the right to whine?"

Pakku shook his head and wondered if they were doing the right thing by getting involved with Langley's operations. "This is spook wet work," Pakku hissed suspiciously. He was using the euphemism for an assassination op, it was nasty business. Iroh heaved another weighty sigh and nodded, "They gave us leeway when it comes down to the kill or capture order, if they resist they have to be taken down, if not then we'll capture them." Iroh lifted one photo and showed it to Pakku. "The only exception is this man, he seems to be very valuable alive."

"Is he an asset then?" Pakku asked.

Iroh shrugged just as Lt. Colonel Piandao entered the room, he was an old friend; they had served together in the Middle East years ago. Piandao was the younger officer of the trio but that did not mean he lacked experience in the special operations world. If anything, the fact that Piandao was lower on the command structure allowed him to be much more hands on with the planning process when it came to the operations themselves. Actually if Piandao had things his way then he'd be out in the field with his men, instead of communicating with them via radio or satellite uplink. But like all of them, he was only human, the years and years he had dedicated to being in Delta Force had taken its toll on his joints and eyesight. He was not the young man he had once been, but his mind was still sharp and with the years of field experience under his belt the Army saw him to be a valuable asset in the logistics and command company of Delta Force.

Piandao smiled at his old friends, knowing that there was no need for military formalities among them. "You're not planning on breaking our unit, are you Colonel Piandao?" Iroh asked. The younger officer gave him a small shrug, "It's mostly in the hands of Command Master Chief Lapham and the candidates themselves as to who breaks." The selection process was supposed to be degrading in a way to the candidates, all of whom were experienced operators in their own right and that came with an inflation of the ego. The first few days would weed out the ones that felt that they did not have to go through a sort of hazing process again. It basically showed who really wanted to be there and who thought they were too good for the program.

"So, do you have any idea what kind of missions they'll be going on?" Piandao asked as he glanced at the file in front of Iroh. "Are they anything like the ones we used to go on?" a nostalgic smile etched itself on Piandao's face. "Yes," Iroh began as he shot Pakku a worried look, "and no." Piandao cocked an eyebrow in puzzlement. "What do you mean?" Piandao motioned toward the file, if he had a better comprehension of what these newly formed task forces were supposed to do, maybe he could prepare them better.

Iroh slid the file toward him. "This is a new decade, Piandao, a very unique decade for the military and special operations in particular. The days of massive troop movements and sweeping battle strategies have taken a back seat to small unit actions. Large conflict prevention is the name of the game, and with the technological advancements of each major military power the nature of special operations missions are changing." Piandao began looking through the file as Iroh continued. "Technology and a sharp mind are the most dangerous weapons today, all because it is impossible to measure how much information a man can hold in his mind and what he can do with that information."

Pakku leaned against the wall and watched as Piandao analyzed everything within the folder, he took it all in, using the wit that was still afforded to him despite the degradation of his physical prowess. "We trained to fight a different kind of war," Pakku said, "we trained to fight an enemy that made use of front lines, maneuver warfare and he basically fought by the book. But now we have to deal with an enemy that fights asymmetrically, seeding chaos wherever he goes as a mean of getting our attention and then striking using unconventional means and common technology at his disposal."

"You're talking about some genius with a computer here," Piandao said, "an egghead."

"Exactly," Iroh confirmed. "The most dangerous person out there is one with knowledge on how to hit us. People, like them." He pointed toward the file. "People who can be swayed, or bought, people who switch sides." Piandao lifted up one of the pictures; it showed a spectacled man obviously posing for an identification photograph. He had a thin mustache, and what was soon to be a second chin. "There's no kill order on this one," Piandao motioned toward the picture and squinted at the image and the man's beady eyes. "That's because we need him alive," Pakku snatched the photo out of Piandao's hand and placed all the other dossiers in the folder. "Or at least the CIA needs him alive. They said something about him having photographic memory, and he knows some sort of algorithm that's important. It's all very sketchy if you ask me."

"General Haldeman doesn't even know that much," Iroh said. He referred to the commander of SOCOM, General J.W. Haldeman. The man was close to retirement and many thought that Iroh would be the next man to take the reins of SOCOM, but to be honest, Iroh was growing wearier with every passing year and retirement looked like the best option some days. "This conflict in Russia is a speed bump; we need to end it quickly. People here at home don't seem to like it all that much."

"Of course they don't," Pakku scoffed, "they bitch about anything we do anywhere in the world."

Iroh smiled, "Settle down, Pakku." The years had cooled Pakku's temper, but there were moments in which his old arrogance, stubbornness and temper would suddenly flare for a second, especially when someone brought up politics tying up military matters. Piandao sighed and leaned forward as he folded his hands, "These people were selected for a reason: They are the best at what they do. And some of them do not know it, others are sure of it. And because they are the best, the government better know for damn sure what it is they're putting these people's necks on the line for." Iroh nodded in agreement, as did Pakku. They had served with too many young people who died horrible deaths for unclear motives. Iroh thought about his nephew for a second and sighed, "I would not give the go ahead for anything if there weren't clear mission parameters." He concluded, Pakku and Piandao nodded in agreement. No sacrifice would be in vain.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Doubt**

The Killing House; it was a name full of intimidation to anyone who had no idea what it was; it was a cause for anxiety. The Killing House was a two story building, made of cinder blocks, concrete and plywood; the rooms even had furniture. In between the plywood walls was a layer of thick rubber that was there for one purpose: to stop live ammunition from going through the walls. Cameras were shielded behind ballistic boxes and glass. The images they recorded could be seen on closed circuit television by the instructors, so they could analyze every movement the teams made. There was absolutely no margin for error, and they had to get it right the first time just like in a real-world situation.

However, Command Master Chief Lapham had decided to pay special attention to Sokka and company, or Alpha Squad as they were referred to normally. Proper gear was necessary for any live-fire exercise, and the Command Master Chief stood along with Alpha wearing Kevlar along with ear and eye protection. It was week four already, and they were thankful for it, especially getting through the first week. In total about twelve people out of forty had backed out of the program, which was actually a decent number. The entire time it had seemed like the instructors wanted more, but Sokka could remember that each and every time someone approached an instructor to be dropped on request he could always hear them mutter something about not having to go through "this sort of abuse" again.

During the second and early part of the third week all of them had gone through a refresher course in combat diving, swimming and a few HALO and HAHO jumps as well as VIP protection with some Secret Service Agents and Delta Force Operators. It had been a hectic schedule and it had been difficult to adjust. They were all in the final phase of the course before their final training exercise. It was going to be a lot like Operation Robin Sage, which was the final part of training for Special Forces students. The exercise was extremely realistic and during it the students were given a mission that they would have to handle just like a real world situation. The instructors played the parts of enemies and friendly guerrilla fighters which the students would have to organize, train and then lead them in combat.

However, since they would not carry out the same missions as Green Berets the aspect of the operation in which they would have to help guerilla fighters combat hostile government troops would be omitted. "Captain," Lapham began, "here's the situation: hostile forces are inside the building and it needs to be cleared. Now they may or may not be in there with hostages, you need to kill all enemy combatants and leave the hostage unharmed, understood?" It was the first time that the Command Master Chief had spoken since the squad's insertion into the area. All he had done was observe them and their movements through the woods. As they moved, pop-up metal targets would surprise them and they would have to engage the targets using live rounds.

Sokka produced a pair of binoculars from his webbing; he had taped over most of the glass, leaving two slits for him to look through. The tape minimalized the risk of sunlight reflecting off the glass and towards the enemy. "What do you see, sir?" Zuko emerged from the bushes; somewhere behind him the rest of the squad remained hidden in the North Carolina foliage. They had all moved through the forest as metal cutouts designated as enemies popped out from behind trees, boulders and bushes, the squad would be given a score at the end of this exercise and depending on it they would be deemed ready or not ready for Robin Sage.

The Marine officer passed the binoculars to his second in command who looked through them at the building and frowned, Zuko's temperament during tense situations was much like his temperament during normal situations; brooding and grim. "I'm guessing that's the objective," Zuko said as he scanned the building. "I'd say there might be no less than twelve guys inside; do you think we have the ammo?" All of them had been instructed to take no more than six magazines, and they had not been told how many targets they would encounter. It had made a stressful situation much worse. "I'd say there are about fifteen meters to that door and I don't see much cover around," Sokka said. They would handle this like a real-world situation, just like the Chief wanted. "Jet, front and center!" he called out.

The Green Beret emerged from behind a tree, he carried an HK-417; it fired the heavier 7.62x51mm NATO cartridge and was fitted with a heavier barrel and a long range scope. It hit a lot harder than its cousin, the HK-416. Jet had proved himself to be an excellent marksman with just about any weapon, although the one he held in his hands seemed to be his favorite. "Captain?" Jet said from behind a layer of camouflage he had on his face. "Do you think you can get a good angle on those windows?" Sokka pointed towards the second story windows and Jet nodded confidently. "Get on it then," the Captain growled. In the fading light, Sokka signaled for Suki to take half the squad up to the door and that the rest of them would cover their approach. The squad radio crackled and Jet's voice came over the net, "I'm in position." Sokka could see him a few yards away; he had climbed a tree to get a better angle on the top floor. "I have a visual on two targets on the last window to the left. No visual on non-combatants."

Sokka keyed the throat mike and told him to hold his fire until the rest of them were in position. "Suki, move!" Sokka ordered and Suki immediately moved up with Toph, Haru and Zuko. Sokka signaled for them to get ready to breech as he moved into position with Murphy, Aang and Lapham trailing behind them. Zuko was Sapper qualified, so he handled the breeching charge. Demolitions was an exact science, he had to measure the amount of explosives needed to blow the door down as well as not kill everyone on the other side. He also needed to make sure the team could be close enough to get through the door as fast as possible, so the boom couldn't be too massive. "Jet, engage the tangos when we breech the doors." Sokka said over the net.

Zuko set the fuse on the first door to be a bit longer so he could set the second charge on the other door where Sokka and his group were stacked up. The charges went off within three seconds of each other, signaling Jet to engage the targets. Both shots were not all that audible seeing as he had screwed on a suppressor on the treads of the barrel. "Targets neutralized," Jet announced. "BREECHING!" Sokka shouted from his position as the second man in the stack. Murphy was the first man through the door, he shouted, "Contact!" as he spotted a target at the end of the hall and quickly drilled him with two rounds in its center of mass.

Sokka heard the other team engaging numerous targets on the other side of the wall, he caught a door out of the corner of his eye and told Aang and Murphy to form up behind him after they made sure that the hall was clear. Sokka kicked open the door after Aang primed a smoke grenade and tossed it through the door. While smoke grenades didn't really have the same effect as flash bang grenades, they did a decent job of throwing off the attention of the enemy. Sokka burst into the room, moving quickly so he would not silhouette himself in the doorway and catch a bullet while lingering in the fatal funnel. He turned right towards the corner of the room and immediately saw a target; he lifted his weapon ready to fire until he saw the cutout was not holding a weapon, but a camera. Aang and Murphy followed suit and engaged two more targets, clearing the room.

"Clear left!" Aang cried out, "Clear right!" Sokka shot back before exiting the room. In total there were two more rooms on the first floor, but not all of them were filled with combatant mannequins. Those mannequins that were deemed non-combatants were promptly knocked down to the floor much like they would do in the real world. They had to keep them out of the line of fire.

After clearing the other rooms the squad had to deal with another fatal funnel, the stairs. They would all be bunched up as they moved up them and any enemy combatant could probably kill all of them with a grenade or a prolonged burst from an automatic weapon. Sokka couldn't help but remember the second thing happening to him and his squad during his first tour in Afghanistan. He had never gone down a set of stairs so fast in his life. However this time the squad solved the problem by tossing another smoke grenade up the stairs and quickly pushing up through the funnel and the smoke and neutralizing the one enemy target they saw. After that it was all fairly textbook; Jet had done his job well and one room had both enemy targets with bullet holes through their chests, the last room had three hostile targets and one hostage. Only this one was actually a human being.

This caught Sokka completely by surprise and he did one of the worst things he could do in a situation like that; he hesitated. His trigger finger froze up despite the fact that his sights were lined up with the target just to the right of the live hostage. But when he did fire, the shot went low and to the extreme right missing both the man and the target. "Shit!" he growled as he tried to get back on target, but by then Suki stepped up behind him and double tapped the target in the head with her pistol. "Clear!" Zuko called out from the left side of the room. "My damn weapon jammed," Suki said as she worked the action on her rifle. Sokka keyed his mike, "Zuko, get the hostages ready for evac." As he said this he turned towards Command Master Chief Lapham who was glaring at the targets in the room. "Good," he said, "the exercise is over." He walked over to the target closest to the hostage who revealed himself to be one of the instructors. "You missed the first shot, Captain." Lapham growled.

He turned and nearly burned holes into Sokka's head with his eyes, "Luckily for you the young lady here was kind enough to pick up your slack." Sokka clenched his jaw, waiting for some sort of punishment. "You do know the price of missing that first shot don't you, Captain?" Lapham patted the instructor who had been playing the hostage on the shoulder; he gave him a thumbs up and smiled. "I would be dead, Command Master Chief," Sokka said loud and clear. "That's the best case scenario," Lapham hissed, "the worst case scenario is that the hostage dies, you fail the mission and one of your team members dies!" Lapham had closed the distance between them; he was doing everything possible to make Sokka feel like an ant about to be stomped on. And it was working pretty well.

"Captain, I understand that you specialized in special reconnaissance when you were in MARSOC, but are your CQC skills this bad under pressure?" Lapham asked, putting Sokka on the spot. "Negative, Command Master Chief," Sokka huffed back, trying to catch his breath again. "British chick, Chief Scarface, I need to have a word with the Captain." Lapham said, referring to Suki and Zuko respectively. They glanced at each other curiously and walked out of the room along with the instructor playing the hostage who glared at Sokka. Command Master Chief Lapham sighed and rubbed his face, "Okay, Captain, what's going on here? We can't throw a curve ball at you?" his voice took on a less aggressive tone, in fact to Sokka it sounded like a weary father trying to figure out why his son couldn't hit a baseball right. Sokka shook his head, "Negative Command Master Chief, expecting the unexpected is what we're trained for."

Lapham walked over to the wall and pointed at Sokka's bullet hole. "Then what's this, Captain Kunayak? It looks like a swing and a miss to me." The SEAL shook his head and looked at Sokka. "Sir, you are an excellent officer, there's no doubt in my mind about that. By the second day you were showing more leadership capabilities than any other officer here. Your strategic and tactical planning is sound, and I have yet to see anyone else here with your marksmanship score." Sokka felt a slight pang of pride. He was a Marine, and like every other Marine he prided himself on his superior long-range marksmanship. There was just something about this room to room stuff that was throwing off his game.

"We've been through the Killing House more than twelve times in the last twenty-four hours. The only difference this time was that we used breeching charges, is there a problem?" Lapham continued.

"Command Master Chief, there's no excuse for my performance," Sokka clenched his jaw, getting ready for Lapham to tell him to drop to the ground and assume the push up position.

The older man took off his helmet and tucked it underneath his arm and flipped up his protective eyewear. "Captain, I don't doubt your abilities. As far as I'm concerned your squad is ready for the final exercise and deployment after that. One miss among a dozen shots isn't much to worry about, but you need to remember sir; that one miss could happen when it most counts." Lapham said. "You remember that, Captain." Sokka's eyes locked onto Lapham's and he nodded, because the Command Master Chief had a point. Lapham stepped back and nodded one more time as he thought about the operation. "Alpha squad is dismissed for the day. Make sure all of you get some rest, tomorrow is going to be big for you guys."

They were picked up by a truck after marching a few miles to a road, they remained silent the entire time, expecting some sort of surprise by the instructors, but nothing ever happened. As they climbed into the trucks, Zuko and Sokka stood by the road, facing the trees still waiting for something until they scrambled into the trucks. "I think we did pretty damn good!" Toph said with an enthusiastic smile. In a way the young Sergeant was right, the squad had done an exceptional job and it felt as if the exercise had gone incredibly smooth, and smooth was fast.

Alpha disembarked from the trucks after they reached their destination, all of them turned in their weapons and ammunition to the weapons Sergeant at the armory and dropped off their equipment at their barracks. After that they headed for the mess hall, there was no real rush to shower, there was a rush to eat though. Everyone had learned to embrace any moment they had to eat over the course of their military careers, but at Camp Phoenix where instructors sometimes punished candidates by prohibiting them from eating for a day, they stuffed their faces when they could. Along with that they also developed the habit of keeping their cammies on for most of the day.

They waited in line for their turn to get whatever it was they were cooking that day, it didn't really matter since they had been living off of Meals Ready to Eat (MREs) since the prior two weeks. It was nice to eat something that actually digested well. "So what do we have, Chef?" Aang asked cheerfully. Although Alpha had only encountered the head cook a few times during his time at the camp, they all agreed that the man was very serious about his trade but he was particularly serious about one leafy vegetable in particular. "Is this cabbage?" Aang asked as he poked at the food on his tray. "Do you have a problem with my cabbage?" the cook asked as he shot Aang a death glare. "What? Oh God, no! I don't have a problem with the cabbage at all! In fact it looks great! Thanks!" Aang sputtered as he almost sprinted away from the line with his tray in hand.

Sokka stepped up and took the food with an awkward smile, the cook also had a bit of a problem with him ever since an incident that happened a few days ago which involved cabbages, and Sim-munition rounds. They all took a seat at the same table and were finally able to speak amongst each other during meal time. The instructors had prohibited it before, and it had messed with everyone's mind which was exactly what they wanted. "Hey, Captain," Zuko suddenly asked as most of them were about half-way done with their meal. Sokka looked at him and nodded for Zuko to continue with the question that was sure to follow. "What happened in that room?" the Delta Force operator asked. Sokka swallowed the food that was in his mouth and gave him a shrug. He didn't really have to answer, not if he wanted to be rude anyways but he was considering it.

"I got caught by surprise," Sokka said flatly. There was nothing else that he really needed to say. The use of a live hostage had screwed up his aim, and he had sworn to himself that he would perform better in a real world operation. "Look, close quarters doesn't seem to be my strong suit," Sokka paused and glared at his squad, "and if any of you feel uncomfortable with having a CO that isn't as well rounded as the rest of you, tell me now. Tell me now and I'll ring that bell, I'm sure they'll find you guys another CO." A slight ripple seemed to cut through the squad, some cocked their eyebrows, others widened their eyes but all of them seemed to be shocked at the suggestion that Sokka was not fit to lead them, it sounded like a bluff. "I can barely hit anything with iron sights past 200 yards," Murphy suddenly said.

"I suck at throwing grenades," Haru cut in.

"I hate the water and jumping out of airplanes. I sometimes don't know how I managed to get this far," Toph cut in.

"I'm short," Aang said. "And I sometimes hesitate when pulling the trigger as well. I don't like killing things."

"My left eye is kind of messed up, it affects everything I do," Zuko admitted.

"I um, I don't do all that well with things that go boom," Jet muttered.

"And I'm not as strong as most of the guys I work with," Suki said.

Sokka nodded, he understood what they meant by all this. Each one of them was not the best they could be at something, but that was the reason they were in a unit together. And there was a reason why it was called a unit. All of them had something different to offer the task force, and all of them together made for an effective special operations unit. Alone, they could not reach their full potential. A warrior fights well; a soldier fights well alongside others.

Someone tapped Sokka on the shoulder; he turned around and saw a young Corporal standing at attention and telling him that Colonel Piandao wanted to speak with him in private. A hole opened up in Sokka's stomach, he suddenly felt like vomiting as a surge of adrenaline ran through his system. Was he going to stand before an academic review board? Were they going to decide his fate as a task force commander? "I got your tray for you, brother," Aang said with a reassuring nod. Sokka gave him a taught smile and followed the Corporal out of the mess hall.

"Did the Colonel say what he wanted to speak about?" Sokka asked as their boots crunched on dried leaves.

"Um, no sir, he didn't say, sorry." Sokka cursed under his breath at the Corporal's answer.

The younger of the two men led Sokka to one of the solid structures in the camp; he opened the door for Sokka who entered what appeared to be a conference room. Behind a long table near the far wall sat General Iroh, Rear Admiral Pakku and Colonel Piandao. Command Master Chief Lapham and two other senior instructors stood at attention nearby. Every branch of the military was represented; there would be no leniency whatsoever. Sokka immediately threw his shoulders back and puffed his chest out, his head held high as he marched into the room and stood at attention in front of the desk. He didn't have a cover, and they were indoors, there was really no need to salute. "At ease, Captain," Pakku muttered as he reviewed a file absentmindedly. To Sokka, it seemed as if there was tension in the air, General Iroh looked distressed.

The Rear Admiral looked up at Sokka and cocked an eyebrow, "Captain, do you know why you are here?" he asked. Sokka's jaw clenched, "Negative sir, I do not know why I am here." Pakku nodded, his eyes narrowed before looking back down at the file again. "Would you care to guess, Captain?" Colonel Piandao's question added to the palpable tension in the room. Once again Sokka answered negatively. "I cannot hazard an effective guess, sir. But to me this looks like an academic review board of sorts, sir."

"Well, under normal circumstances you would be correct, Captain," Piandao answered.

"I have a question, sir," Sokka was a bit hesitant about bringing anything up, actually it was probably better to just shut up. But Piandao motioned for him to continue. "Is this about my inadequate performance over the past few weeks?" Sokka gulped audibly. He almost let out a loud sigh of relief when General Iroh shook his head. "Captain, you're here because we needed to tell you that the time table of your deployment has been moved up," Iroh said. "Pardon, sir?" Sokka's jaw nearly dropped to the floor, he was hoping that he had misheard something. "You heard me just fine, Captain," Iroh said. "Your unit will deploy on Tuesday of next week." Sokka did a quick count in his head and realized that they only had six days until deployment. Six days to get everyone squared away.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Pakku leaned forward inquisitively.

"No, sir, not at all, I'd just like to know why, that's all," Sokka felt sweat beginning to form at his hair line, anxiety coursed through his veins.

Iroh sighed and mulled over some unknown thought before telling Sokka that the CIA had to deal with another defector, this new one seemed to be much more dangerous than the others ones they had implied before. According to the SOCOM brass, the new defector had information that could bring the U.S to DEFCON 2, which had not been done since 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis. General Haldeman confirmed that the new defector's kill order came straight from the top. He was referring to the President, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the head of the CIA.

"Sir, will my unit be the only one deploying on these missions?" Sokka was worried that his task force would have a lot on their plate without other units picking up the slack wherever else they were needed. "As of now, you will be the only Joint Task Force assigned missions of this nature, more units will be deployed to the field shortly." Pakku was just about to dismiss Sokka when the Marine brought up another question. "Why was my unit selected, sir?" Pakku sighed and shook his head. He looked at Command Master Chief Lapham and then back at Sokka. "Captain, to put it simply we asked Command Master Chief Lapham which unit was best prepared to deploy within a few days, and without hesitation he told us your unit. You are dismissed. Now get out of my sight."

Sokka turned and left the room, his head spinning and vomit clawing its way up his throat. Was he ready to lead the task force yet? Were they ready to go into combat together? He plowed through the doors and out into the North Carolina air before scrambling around to the side of the building and heaving his lunch into the dirt. It sure didn't feel like he was ready. Sokka closed his eyes and spit on to the ground, trying to clear his head and fighting off the feelings of nausea that were assaulting his body. "Captain," Sokka recognized the voice and snapped to attention again, saluting this time. "Colonel Piandao, sir!" the older officer looked over the Marine with a cautious and worried eye. "At ease, are you alright, son?" Piandao's voice suddenly took on a fatherly tone. Sokka nodded and answered affirmatively.

Piandao sighed, "If there was ever a moment to speak truthfully Captain, it's now. Speak freely, son. You don't think you can handle these missions?" Sokka sucked in a breath and shook his head. "No, sir, I can handle the missions," doubt must have still been evident on Sokka's face because Piandao looked unconvinced of his words. "Sokka, I've read your service record well over a dozen times and I've watched you closely as you've trained here," Piandao said, "and I have yet to see an officer with as much potential as you." The Marine was unsure how to react to the Colonel's words. "To be honest, you remind me of your father."

"You know my father?" Sokka interest was suddenly peaked.

"I do, we served in the Gulf together, obviously not part of the same unit but we ran into each other during an incident I'd rather forget." Piandao waved his hand as if he was swatting at some terrible memory.

"Sokka, I'm a bit older than your father but I'm just a Colonel for a reason; I like being in the field too much. But in you I see the potential to be twice the operator I was and twice the officer your father is. When you're out in the field just remember one thing," Piandao turned toward Sokka and placed his hand on the Marine's shoulder. "Always do what's right, even when no one is looking." Piandao patted him once more on the shoulder and told him to go see to his unit to deliver the news. Sokka took off with renewed vigor.

He found his squad in the barracks killing time, they were either cleaning their weapons for the umpteenth time, messing with their gear or reading a book they had finished before. However Sokka noticed that Zuko and Haru were missing. Sokka asked where they were and Murphy told him that they were in the head, puking. Apparently they weren't the only ones since it seemed that the cabbage that everyone had eaten had gone bad. They all doubted it was food poisoning since the purge was only coming out one way. "So what's the news, sir?" Suki asked. "We're deploying in six days, and still no news on the first mission." A grim wave overtook the squad; Sokka caught this and addressed the mood. "I know it's not much time, but we're ready, you guys are the best and I'd put my life on the line for all of you. They wouldn't deploy us if they didn't think we were ready and I wouldn't agree to it if I didn't think the same thing." The squad nodded, confidence taking root. "We're here for a reason; now let's show them what it is." Sokka had no idea who "them" was, but it sounded good. With a newly confident foundation laid beneath them, Alpha squad began to mentally prepare itself for their imminent deployment. In six days they'd be far from home, with few familiar faces around them and with help miles away. It was ridiculously dangerous. It was what they did.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Operation Cold Fury**

"Good morning, boys and girls," Sokka said as he entered the briefing room at 2400 hours, the sun had yet to break the horizon and all the members of JTF Alpha-One sat in their chairs with bags under their eyes. Some of them were sipping on steaming cups of strong coffee they had acquired from the mess hall; others were letting their coffee cool next to them as they took a quick nap in their seat; their head propped up by one of their hands. But as soon as Sokka entered the room they were awake, Sokka had told them before that there was no need to stand at attention when he entered a room.

"Operation Cold Fury," Sokka said as he switched on the Smart board and gave it a chance to start up, "Canada, here we come." The task force perked up at the mentioning of Canada, it was unexpected to say the least. "This is our target," Sokka brought up a photo of their target, "James Garret; he's a seasoned CIA agent and he worked their Special Activities Division since the mid-nineties." Everyone looked up at the photo and focused on the man's facial features, trying to memorize them. "Before all that he was in Special Forces and he has an extensive and very impressive service record." Sokka crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively as he tried to fight off the discomfort he was feeling from speaking in public. "He is not to be taken alive, that order comes straight from the top, understood?" They all answered affirmatively.

The maps were now fully loaded onto the screen and Sokka manipulated the image to show satellite imagery and photos of a formidable looking compound. "Garret had been spotted in this compound in northern Ontario," Zuko raised his hand. "Sir, where did we get this Intel and who provided it?"

"Our intelligence has been provided by the Canadians; we checked with the CIA, it's all solid and that's why they gave us the go-ahead," Zuko nodded, still not looking satisfied.

Sokka turned back to the board and pointed to the compound, "The compound has four sizeable buildings with in its walls and it's well-built although the structures are primarily made out of wood." Sokka circled the buildings using his pen, "Recent recon on the compound estimates at least a platoon sized element of troops inside. They're mercenaries; hired guns so don't hesitate with these guys. Lethal force is authorized, now for some good news: Canada's own Joint Task Force 2 is backing us up so it won't be just us out there." The energy in the room changed to a much more positive tone.

"We'll be entering the area of operations via HALO jump; we don't know what the enemy's capabilities are so we'll have to do this quickly and quietly. Our ride will be an Air Force C-17 and our pick up will be Canuck, Teo will have to sit this one out unfortunately. Any questions?" There were none, all of them were studying the maps and memorizing rendezvous points and their first and secondary LZ's. "Good," Sokka said. "This is our first time out together; let's get it done, Ooh-rah?" The last part drew some odd looks, seeing as none of the other unit members were Marines, Sokka's little battle cry was probably a little out of place. "Hoo-ah!" Toph barked back before Haru and Jet let one out too. Sokka smiled and nodded his head, "Well, get your gear in order, we're out of here at 0130 hours, dismissed." He heard Murphy give out a fairly loud "Hoo-Yah!" before leaving the room as well.

Hours later Joint Task Force Alpha-One sat inside the lumbering C-17; the odd time at which they had had to move out had messed with their internal clocks severely. As a result, most of them slept inside the belly of the craft. Sokka reviewed a map of the mission area, making little notations next to topographic areas of interest that he might need to remember as well as little calculations as to how much time it would take them to move between their first and secondary LZ's depending on varying conditions. He flexed his legs and arms occasionally to make sure they stayed warm. As they crossed into the sub-zero temperatures of northern Canada they realized that their Protective Combat Uniforms (PCU) worked very well. In all there were seven layers to put on, it was annoying, but freezing to death didn't really sound all that appealing.

Underwear, two layers of pants, two long-sleeve shirts, one jacket, and one wind shirt followed up by shell jacket and pants. They topped it all off with another pair of pants, waterproof this time, with a matching waterproof hooded jacket. Sokka had ditched the final layer having grown up in cold climates for his entire life; in fact he quite liked it although tropical islands always sounded like nice vacation spots. The PCU had to be mixed and matched to correspond with the conditions and terrain they were going to operate in though, that was a downside to the gear, it didn't come in white.

On top of Sokka's PCU, he wore his plate carrier. The small piece of gear provided him with a place to put his ammo, knife, and SAPPI plates. He had torn off anything that could identify him, including his dog tags although they had been told to keep their flags in place. Sokka glanced down at the American flag on his plate carrier and sighed, he hoped the Canucks wouldn't shoot at him because of it. On top of all that gear he had a thick suit that was designed to keep him conscious during free fall. He looked a like a big teddy bear, and moved about as fast as one. His ruck sack was strapped to his hips and dangled in front of his crotch seeing as his parachute was occupying the space on his back. In total, Sokka must have weighed over 250 pounds.

Sokka shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he slipped the map into his zip up pouch he had on his plate carrier. He looked around in the dim red light that illuminated the interior of the craft. He could see Aang slumped forward in his seat, snoring lightly, Toph was fiddling with her harness, Suki and Zuko were discussing something over a map while Jet listened to music and Haru read a book with the help of his flashlight.

The minutes ticked by, and Sokka took a six minute nap before waking up and taking a look at his watch. It was almost time to jump. He looked at Zuko who had been looking in his general direction and nodded. The Delta operator stood up and shouted for everyone to wake up and don their oxygen masks. They were so high up that they risked decompression sickness or hypoxia; nitrogen would need to be flushed out of their bodies by breathing 100% oxygen for about half an hour before the jump. "Get your masks on, breath deep!" Zuko secured his mask and gave Sokka a thumbs up before sitting down and inhaling. He was at a greater risk of hypoxia because he was a smoker and he knew it but he went on with his job anyway. They all needed to take deep breaths and relax, anxiety might screw things up. "Remember your call signs!" Zuko barked over the net.

"Vertigo," Suki raised her hand.

"Outlaw," Toph grunted.

"Pretty Boy," Haru banged on his helmet.

"Psycho," Jet responded with a "Yo!"

"Hammer," Murphy made his presence known.

"Elmer," Zuko stifled a chuckle as Aang shot them all an aggravated look before letting his arm snap up.

Sokka or Royal Six as he was known by his call sign, drummed his fingers on the tactical pad that was strapped to his left forearm, a wonderful and durable piece of technology and it would be even more wonderful if they made it bulletproof. "Gear check!" Sokka shouted as they reached the ten minute mark and they all slipped their helmets on. Everyone checked their own gear. "Five mikes!" Zuko shouted before he told everyone to stand up. "Chute check!" Sokka turned and allowed Aang to check his chute and then checked the Airman's. "You're good to go!" Sokka said.

Zuko activated the door and with a mechanical whine the howling winds were allowed to enter the plane. The cold night air bit at exposed flesh, the operators braced against it and looked down into the night. Sokka flipped down his helmet's visor and heaved a sigh to shake off any remnants of anxiety he felt. "Are you ready, sir?" Zuko asked as he took his place next to Sokka, he would be the second one out of the plane. "Yeah, I'm ready, what about you Smokie?" Zuko gave Sokka an annoyed look, he wasn't a fan of call signs either. "GREEN LIGHT!" Zuko screamed and Sokka didn't hesitate before throwing himself out into the inky abyss.

Once they were out of the airplane, they would have to quickly get into formation and fall at terminal velocity. Their lateral flight path and small size along with their lack of metal made them practically invisible to radar, which wasn't really a problem during the mission but it was better to over compensate in that area. Sokka's stomach clenched for a second and he relaxed, allowing his midsection to drop into the wind, allowing the air to flow around his body smoothly and stabilizing his body's flight. He checked the altimeter on his wrist, and waited, seeing human figures out of the corner of his eye making sure to keep their spacing so they wouldn't collide and possibly die, or be knocked unconscious and then go splat. They reached the right altitude and pulled their rip chords. The sudden deployment yanked Sokka's body upward and knocked the air out of him even though he had performed HALO jumps many times before.

Sokka and his team rode the air currents but he lost sight of everyone in the moonless night, but that was alright, they'd regroup when they reached the ground. Unfortunately fate had a different plan in mind and a sudden gust of wind blew Sokka off course and into a thicket of pine trees. He wrestled with his chute trying to see if he could steer it clear of the towering pines but then he saw there were few clearings in the area and the ground was coming up to greet him quickly. Just before Sokka flew into the snow covered pines, he saw a chute in the darkness no more than two hundred yards away disappear behind a thicket and then he smashed through the branches.

As he braced himself and let out a stream of colorful words, Sokka wondered how far he would plunge into the thicket until a sudden snap and a halt to his momentum told him he had become entangled in a tree. He cautiously relaxed his body and flipped his visor up and scanned the area around him. His chute had gotten tangled in a tree and he was about fifteen feet above the snow. Taking a little tumble might have been ill advised, but he might be able to reach the ground safely by sliding down a tree or something. Sokka sighed and undid his ruck sack allowing it to fall before searching for his knife, he was happy he had brought his KA-Bar along with him, it was just what he needed. He undid his oxygen mask and grimaced as he reached up and got a face full of snow, this wasn't the first time that Sokka had been caught in a tree after a jump. The first time had been during jump school where the parachutes they used allowed for far less maneuverability, he actually suffered from some bruised bones after cutting himself loose. But that was not one of the worse things that could happen to a man caught in a tree in a combat zone, the worst case scenario was that enemy soldiers would find him and take him prisoner, or just shoot into the trees and outright kill him. It was then that he heard a sound below him and he froze in place. Maybe he had been lucky and no one had seen him.

Sokka cautiously looked down, trying to make the least amount of noise he possibly could. "Captain?" he heard the figure whisper. Sound carried differently in the forest. "Captain, is that you?" the accent immediately told Sokka who it was. "Suki, I'm stuck!" he hissed back. "Why am I not surprised?" he could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm scowling at you right now, just thought you should know," Sokka growled as he began to cut through his rigging. One of the risers snapped and Sokka was suddenly hanging at an angle and he could hear the sudden shift of weight making the branches above him groan in complaint. Sokka was about to meet the ground. He looked down to make sure that the area below him was clear, and sure enough, Suki had taken several steps back anticipating Sokka's fall.

His buttocks hit the snow hard, branches and pine needles followed suit covering him as he patted himself down to make sure he didn't break anything. "Are you okay, sir?" Suki kneeled down and reached for her first aid kit, it seemed that Sokka's fall had looked pretty bad to her. "I'm okay," Sokka said as he got up and yanked his chute downward. He packed it and hid it along with his over suit. He was much more mobile without the thick layer of padding and the chute. _"Royal Six, this is Smokie, come back,"_ Sokka's squad radio had been squawking as he readjusted his headset and put his ballistic helmet on. "This is Six, what's up?" Sokka answered as Suki handed him his knife. _"I've managed to regroup with most of the squad, I saw you go in pretty hard, are you okay?"_ Zuko asked. "I'm good to go, Smokie," Sokka answered.

"_Roger that, I've regrouped with everyone else, is Vertigo with you?"_

"Yeah, she is," Sokka checked his weapon as he listened.

"_Okay, we'll wait for you guys and proceed to the rally point,"_ Zuko sounded a bit preoccupied.

"Negative, move to the rally point now, we'll be right behind you, Six out," the comms went dead.

Suki had been scanning the area with her night vision goggles (NVG's) as Sokka spoke, she turned to him and asked if they were ready to move out and Sokka motioned for her to get moving as he took point. While there was very little chance of them running into enemy combatants before they reached their objective, Sokka didn't want to risk screwing up and losing someone on their first mission. They moved quickly despite their heavy ruck sacks, the snow wasn't all that thick either, it was about a foot or a foot and a half in most places and it had become a bit impacted allowing for some solid footing in parts of it. Sokka and Suki took full advantage and double-timed it to the rally point. As they moved Sokka picked up a distinctive sound in the darkness, it sounded like a snowmobile; in fact it was probably more than one.

He signaled for Suki to halt and then motioned for her to take cover when he realized that the vehicles were getting closer. The both of them set up behind different trees and watched as a pair of lights bounced towards the clearing right in front of them. Sokka flipped off the safety on his suppressed SCAR-L but let his finger rest on the trigger guard. Suki did the same off to his right; they didn't want to point their weapons at two people that might be non-combatants. Sokka keyed his mike, "Let them get closer, don't engage unless you see a weapon," he muttered. Zuko suddenly asked if Sokka had encountered hostiles over the radio to which Sokka responded for him to stand by. The vehicles came to a halt directly in front of the tree line, their engines went dead and the two figures riding them got off.

There were two men; Sokka could hear their voices, speaking a foreign language that sounded like Italian to him. He glanced down and saw beams of light coming from the weapons they had strapped to their bodies. At first he wondered if they were hunters, but hunters didn't usually hunt at night, especially not with assault weapons. They also wore tactical clothing which further told Sokka that they probably weren't locals. One of the men motioned for the other to wait as he hastily ran to a tree and fumbled with his zipper. Man would always be helpless to Mother Nature's call. "Vertigo, he's separating," Sokka began tracking the other man with his rifle, the infrared laser that was only visible through their NVG's painted the side of the man's balaclava. "You get the pisser, I got the other guy." He whispered as Suki's laser became visible for a second before it was floating on the pisser's chest. _"In position,"_ Suki hissed. "Bust 'em," Sokka squeezed the trigger and the weapon spat out a 5.56mm NATO round that went in just above the dude's left ear. He went down, his buddy followed suit. "Clear," Sokka said before scanning the area again and moving out. They wouldn't have to hide the bodies; they would just have to move quickly before the bad guys knew they were there.

"Good job," Suki nodded at Sokka's compliment as she switched off the lights on the dead guy's weapons and Sokka handled the snowmobiles. "Smokie, we just eliminated two enemy hostiles, be careful there might be more patrols out there," it took a while for Zuko to respond. _"Roger that, we encountered four hostiles," _he chuckled a bit, _"they didn't make it."_ It took them at least half an hour to reach the rally point, and by that time Zuko and company had been there for well over twenty minutes. They had also made new friends in the form of numerous armed men who looked intimidating but were not wearing the same thing as the men they had killed before. "Captain Kunayak, sir," Zuko said, his breath evaporating into the air. "This is Captain Rafferty, Canada's own Joint Task Force 2." The two officers nodded and shook hands. "It's a pleasure, Captain, I'm guessing you and your guys have been here for a while?" Captain Rafferty nodded. "Oh yeah, we've been here since last night doing recon on the compound, these guys are pretty serious." The Canadian said.

Sokka motioned for Aang to come over with his radio; he took the receiver and checked with Aang to see if they were using the proper frequency. "Dragon, this is Royal Six, we've established contact with the Moose heard, over," Sokka smirked as he saw Captain Rafferty shake his head and stifle a chuckle at how the Americans were referring to his unit. Iroh answered, _"Roger that Royal Six, proceed with mission, be advised, Big Eye is in the sky,"_ the channel clicked off and Sokka handed the receiver back to Aang. "Captain, how many hostiles have you seen over the past two days?" asked Sokka as he looked up hoping to catch a glimpse of the unmanned Reaper drone circling somewhere above their heads.

"I'd say about twenty, no more than that," he paused and motioned for Sokka to follow him, "but I think we can subtract eight from that number now."

"You heard all of that?" Sokka said as he went prone at the crest of the small hill.

"Your CWO told us all about it; they must have heard the plane. These dudes are paranoid," Rafferty produced some chunky binoculars and handed them to Sokka who was surprised to find they were infrared seeing.

He could see the compound and its building, they were blurry shapes through the infrared lenses but he could make out the white heat signatures that were clearly human in shape. "I'm counting twelve either in the courtyard or patrolling the perimeter; I doubt our guy is one of them." Sokka handed the thermals back to the Canadian officer who peered through them. "He's probably all nice and warm inside, by the fire, that's what I think that heat signature in the window is." Sokka agreed. They would have to kill the guards quietly, either by getting close or by using their snipers. The second option seemed like the way to go. "Captain Rafferty, do you have snipers in your unit?" Sokka waved towards Haru and Jet and motioned for them to come to him. "Yes, I got two teams ready to go on the ridge to the north of us; this is the southern ridge so we can catch the guards in a crossfire." Sokka liked the way the Canuck was thinking. "Everyone, form up," Sokka whispered into his mike. One of the advantages of using a throat mike was that he didn't have to scream over noise for everyone to hear him clearly.

"Okay, here's the plan," Sokka began as soon as everyone had assembled. "Zuko, you take Bravo to the east and eliminate the guards the snipers can't get, we need to do this quickly, the sun will be coming up in a few minutes," Sokka pointed towards the compound, "The guards at the main gate will be a bit of a problem but our shooters will take care of them, afterwards we'll push through the courtyard and into the building." Sokka suddenly got an idea. "Captain Rafferty, do your men have a Javelin by any chance?" Rafferty nodded, and told one of his men to unpack the weapon. "What do you have in mind?" he asked. "I know it's loud but if our target has an escape tunnel of some sort he might use it as soon as we get into the courtyard, so I think one of your guys should hit the top floor with the Javelin as soon as we secure the gate." This complicated matters since both units didn't want to tune in on the same frequency, but Rafferty solved that problem quickly by telling Sokka that he and a portion of his men would join JTF Alpha-One in the assault on the compound. Rafferty would give the signal to the Javelin man. "Are your superiors cool with you doing this?" Sokka didn't want to risk Captain Rafferty's career with his own plan. Rafferty shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, this bastard came to my country to stir up trouble, even if he came from your country I think it's our duty as well to get rid of him." Sokka nodded and thanked the Canadian officer. They had their units get into position just as the sun was coming up, and kicked off the assault.

Alpha Team which consisted of Sokka, Rafferty, Suki, Murphy, and a second JTF 2 operative, would assault the side of the compound where the gate was located. Bravo Team, which was made up of Zuko, Aang, two more JTF 2 operatives and Toph would sweep the perimeter clean if Charlie Team, the sniper element, couldn't eliminate all of the roving guards. Charlie would also be in charge of firing off the Javelin that would initiate the louder aspect of the attack.

They split up and moved into position; it took them a long fifteen minutes until they were ready to execute their plan. Sokka watched as one of the guards trudged through the snow, he was about twelve yards away and approaching them at a leisurely pace. "Hammer," Sokka said to Murphy over the squad radio, "stay off the 48 unless we're made or I tell you otherwise." Murphy nodded and lowered his weapon. The Mk. 48 Mod 0 fired the 7.62x51 mm NATO round, but was a much more modern and slightly lighter weapon than the M60E which was a favorite of special operations teams in the U.S. Despite being the team's Doc, Murphy had proven to be quite talented with the weapon, but there was no need for such fire power at the moment.

_"He's mine,"_ Haru whispered over the squad channel before a suppressed round impacted the man's head and he dropped. There was a pause and another voice said, _"Two tangoes down,"_ another pause and three more hostiles were dead. _"Alpha, you're clear on your end, Bravo, hold your positions,"_ Sokka figured that there were still live guards on their end. "The sun's almost up," Suki said as she took over behind a large boulder with Sokka. She was right; they were losing the cover of darkness. They needed to speed things up. "Yeah… Let's get to the gate." The gate was a nine foot tall steel structure that was chained to the concrete wall with large rings that they wouldn't blow through with anything they had on at the moment. Fortunately, one of the JTF 2 operatives found a key on one of the dead bodies which opened the lock. "Captain Rafferty, tell them to shoot that Javelin off," Sokka paused before opening the door and waited for the JTF 2 officer to give the command.

_"Javelin out!" _Sokka braced for impact as the missile arched upward and that was when he heard the rattle of a machine gun. _"Hard contact, we've been made!"_ Zuko grunted as he was no doubt returning fire. It didn't matter; things were about to get loud as it was anyways. And that was when the missile came down like Thor's hammer and rocked the top floor of the largest building within the compound, illuminating the interior for a nanosecond before sending a concussive blast out of the windows and seemingly vaporizing the roof. "Frag out!" Sokka turned to see Captain Rafferty, his men and Suki were tossing frag grenades over the wall just in case there were hostiles waiting for them on the other side. _"Royal Six, this is Smokie," _Zuko sounded out of breath, he was running. _"We're going to scale the wall and get into the compound; you're going to have to secure the courtyard first! Move up!"_ he shouted to someone else.

For good measure Sokka tossed another grenade over the gate and waited for it to detonate. By that time they could all hear men on the other side screaming and even some automatic weapons fire and a string of explosions. The Marine threw the gate open and immediately leveled his weapon and saw a man stumbling around holding his face and screaming in agony. Sokka saw a weapon hanging from his chest, so he popped him twice in the center of mass. "Get inside!" he shouted as he sighted another figure and fired. Suki was in right after him, the courtyard was secure, four men lay in the snow either dead or dying from horrific wounds they had suffered when a generator had ignited and exploded. "Smokie, the courtyard's clear, get in here, _now_!" Sokka spotted a small shed and signaled for Murphy to take care of it. The SEAL ran up to the door and kicked it to splinters, "Clear!" he shouted.

By that time Zuko and company had climbed over the walls. "Captain, I got this building you take the big one!" Rafferty bellowed as he led his men to one of the buildings. Zuko moved towards the largest building, already prepping an explosive charge. Sokka produced a flash bang grenade and chucked it through a blasted window, it detonated just before Zuko placed the breaching charge. The comms were going wild with chatter as Charlie Team engaged every enemy combatant they could find; they were even asking if they needed to fire a second Javelin missile into the compound. Iroh was calling for a sitrep and Big Eye was standing by for air support if things got out of hand. But they dutifully held their fire unless the teams in the compound called for it, and General Iroh would need to wait until the Task Force had finished their business.

The breaching charge exploded, sending a wave of pressure into the room to further disorient the enemies on the other side of the door that had once been in place. They barged in, checking their corners, cleared the room and killed one man. Without wasting any time the charged up the stairs after tossing a cooked frag up into the small room up top. They had forgotten that it had taken the brunt of the Javelin missile's destructive force and had pretty much collapsed on itself. Everyone in the room had been killed, and the armed guard that had gone upstairs to check had been killed when the team tossed a frag grenade upstairs.

"Alright, check the bodies, this is what he looks like, remember," Sokka fiddled with his tactical pad for a few seconds, the fires in the room warming the teams bodies and the stench of charred human flesh assaulted their noses. He brought up the image that he had shown them before in the briefing room, but when Sokka took a look at one of the bodies he realized that identification might be more difficult than he thought when one of the corpses had been charred beyond recognition and another one was missing his face completely. "Aang, get over here," Sokka barked, he was still running on an adrenaline high, making his voice sound harsh like his old Drill Instructor. He tore the receiver from Aang's hands and contacted Iroh. "Dragon, this is Royal Six, the compound is clear but we're having trouble identifying the target, stand by." No doubt Iroh and Pakku were watching what was going on through Big Eye's camera lens. _"Royal Six, if you can't identify the bodies then take DNA samples, wrap it up,"_ Pakku favored the direct approach and he didn't want them on the ground for longer than necessary. Sokka unsheathed his knife and told everyone to take a finger or something along those lines off the bodies and put it a zip lock. It was an aspect of their job that no one really talked about, the media usually only advertised the sexy aspect of spec ops work.

"Sir, this looks like our man," Toph was crouched next to one of the bodies; she was turning his head, exposing a part of his face that hadn't been torn up too badly. Sokka walked over to her, stepping over body parts and rubble. "Yep, that's Garret," Sokka slid his knife back in its sheath and pulled out the digital camera that he had been issued. He snapped a couple of pictures of the macabre scene and up loaded it to his tactical pad and waited for a moment before it relayed the pictures to Big Eye, bounced it off a satellite and back to Fort Bragg. They filed out of the room and met up with Rafferty and his men in the courtyard. "We're all clear," he told his American counterpart. Sokka nodded and told him that they had eliminated their target as well, Rafferty immediately called for evac. _"Alpha-One, be advised, the target's identity has been confirmed by Langley, excellent job."_ Sokka allowed himself to smile, their first time out together and they hadn't lost anyone on their side and they had accomplished their mission. To be completely honest, he wanted to do a happy dance, but that would have to wait until he was alone.

The mission hadn't hit any snags, and it hadn't been all that bumpy either, the chances of them encountering something during exfil were minimal. "We're done here, guys," the announcement was a welcome one, the cold was wearing on their patience. The Osprey was inbound and all there was to do was wait, they stayed alert and watched the perimeter in case there was some unexpected complication. The most dangerous parts of any mission were the final phases, people usually let their guard down and that was when an intelligent enemy attacked. Luckily for them, no such thing happened and they boarded the Osprey quickly seeing as the Canadian Air Force was going to level the compound. Two hours later, the compound had been reduced to rubble; JTF Alpha-One had joined their counterparts in an early breakfast, said good bye and promptly departed back across the border. That night, the incident would be called a live fire military exercise on the local evening news. The incident would not be mentioned at the national or international media level. American involvement would never be officially acknowledged on any reports.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender" or any of the characters. They belong to their respective creators, as do some of the lines of dialogue I decided to incorporate into this chapter. Some of you may recognize them from the show. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Chapter 7: Overseas and Across the Country**

About two days after their first time out together, the task force was given four days off before their next deployment which would take them away from the continent. Sokka pondered the possible missions he and his unit would be given as he lifted weights at the gyms at Fort Bragg. Exercise was how Sokka liked to clear his mind, or focus on a single thing at a time, reading did the same thing but only if it was a really good novel.

Despite their success in Ontario, they had remained in the dark as to what their target's activities were up north. It had proved to be very frustrating since most people liked to know why a person needed to be killed, and on top of that Langley did not seem to mind that Garret had been terminated by Canadian operators. All they wanted was for Garret to be six feet under and that was exactly what they got. They got a body, actually they got several for that matter, but that left numerous unanswered questions for the men and women of Alpha-One. What was Garret up to? Who were the armed men that were keeping him company in the compound? Where did they get the money for such weapons? And where did they receive their training? Sokka recalled that a lot of the guards looked like they knew what they were doing. They would patrol within ear shot of each other, but never group together as they walked the perimeter.

"Good morning, Captain," Sokka snapped out of his pondering and looked up to see Aang with a towel draped over his shoulder. An Air Force shirt covered his upper body, which was getting him a few snickers from a couple of privates in the corner. Sokka shot them a look that made them refocus on their work out again. "Crap, how long were you here for?" Sokka hadn't noticed that the Tech Sergeant had been in the gym, he had been in his own little world. "I just got off that machine thing over there, I like running mostly," Aang said. The younger of the two men had been moody the day following their return from Ontario. He had admitted to Sokka that he was not a fan of killing and while he found aggression to be necessary in his line of work, he by no means relished it. Sokka could respect Aang's monk-like attitude when it came to violence. He could respect it, but he could not understand it completely.

Sokka had been conditioned in boot camp to harness his natural aggression and any lingering anger into killing the enemy, he was trained to be gung-ho about it. If it was one thing the Marines drilled into his head well, it was that in order to win battles, he would need to kill. It was a sad and brutal truth that not everyone could wrap their heads around. When Sokka was a Corporal he had been able to count the number of men he had killed on one hand; the kills had been confirmed too. But the older he got the more sickened he became with score-keeping. He tolerated it when Marines under his command did it but took no part in it himself. Aang and Sokka began to slowly bond over this refined attitude they had developed towards violence, even if Sokka was more willing to bring the hammer down on someone and he had to be, they didn't make him the commanding officer of an elite special operations unit for no reason.

"Are you going to get something to eat?" Aang wiped his bald head as he spoke to his commanding officer. There really wasn't much else to do on a military base other than eat, sleep, train, lift weights, maybe have a few drinks, train some more and trying not to die of boredom in between by playing pranks on friends. And Sokka hadn't really thought of any, on top of that it would be a bit weird for his unit to see their CO pulling pranks on people, he hadn't been around them long enough to let his goofy flag fly. "Yeah, I've had enough working out for one day; I plan on getting the unit together to run some CQC exercises in a bit." Aang nodded, it sounded like a solid plan.

They didn't bother changing out of their PT clothes and went to the mess hall, while they weren't wearing their ranks, both of them waited behind the enlisted men. Sokka allowed Aang to get his meal first. The Corps emphasized that officers should always allow enlisted men to eat first; they did the fighting and therefore needed the chow more than anyone else. After they sat down to enjoy their meal and began discussing an incident that had happened the day before on the firing range, they noticed a sudden decrease in the churning movements about the mess hall. Soldiers stopped in front of a television, some shouted for the ones closest to raise the volume. Sokka raised an eyebrow and stood up to get a better look at what was going on. He called out to a Lieutenant who was jogging towards the growing crowd in front of the nearest television, "Lieutenant, what's going on?" Sokka cried, but the man shrugged, responded with a hurried, "I don't know," and kept moving. Sokka motioned for Aang to follow him as he made his way towards the mob.

Murmurs filled the air with curses and shouts for everyone to shut up or to turn the volume up even further, Sokka looked up to see the television tuned to CNN. There had been a series of attacks in Russia, Europe and one in the States. All of them had been military targets. The talking head on the news said that so far it had been confirmed that Ramstein Air Force Base had been hit with a small car bomb, and that reports of dead and wounded were just coming in. Camp Pendleton, a Marine base that was very familiar to Sokka, had been hit as well. The base was in California, clear across the country but the explosion might as well have happened next door. Those were Marines just like him dying over there, on home soil. To make matters worse, on top of the numerous suicide attacks, the rebels in Russia had launched a renewed and well organized counter-offensive against the UN forces in the country. More death and no action for the task force.

Sokka let out a loud curse, his teeth bared and his face growing red. They had to get into the fight, he was sick of just waiting around for a mission to come their way. Taking the fight to the enemy was the best thing they could do. No one was claiming responsibility for the attacks yet, Sokka wasn't sure if anyone would since the entire world knew what was coming next: the U.S was about to club anyone who seemed remotely suspicious. "Aang, pack your stuff," Sokka wrung his hands as he spoke; "we're not staying here for much longer. I'm making sure of that!"

The two of them made their way to their barracks, moving past the uniforms that were running around frantically to make sure the base was secure. Command had put everyone on high alert since there was a possibility that Fort Bragg might be a target for another attack. Mechanics were looking over vehicles to make sure that they hadn't been tampered with, equipment was handled with caution for the same reason and everyone was feeling the anxiety of the unknown. He ran into Toph who was frantic, she asked what happened, Sokka told her as much as he knew and that she should get her duffle bag together. The Ranger nodded and ran towards one of buildings to get more details as to what was happening. "Aang, if you see anyone else from the unit tell them to get ready for deployment!" Sokka called out. "I'll meet up with you later; I need to talk to the General."

Sokka wasted no time in getting to General Iroh's office; he didn't speak to the Specialist at the desk and barged into the office. He was surprised to find Zuko already in there speaking with his uncle.

"Captain," Iroh said.

"See, he's probably in here asking for the same thing!" Zuko was on the very verge of shouting.

"I know Zuko, but the man has a mouth, let him speak." Iroh had never raised his voice, and it didn't sound like he was going to start either.

"General, the task force is ready for deployment; I don't like this whole thing about going off on our first mission and coming back home all warm and cozy."

Zuko turned to his uncle, "See, sir?" he hissed. "Sir, they need us closer to Russia, in the country even, but they need our help over there!" Sokka had forgone almost all military courtesy and resorted to speaking to Iroh like he was a professor who had yet to decide if he passed or failed his class. His voice was a mixture of sternness and pleading that he hadn't used since his teenage years. "I know that, Captain, but there are times when it is best to forgo aggression and deploying your forces in a fit of rage, and instead wait to make a better decision when your mind is clearer." Iroh motioned for Sokka to calm down; he detected the distress in his demeanor.

"Now, I know that you probably had friends in Camp Pendleton, and I'm sure you are very upset and you want payback, but we don't know who we're dealing with yet." Iroh pointed towards a seat and more or less order the Marine Captain to sit. "That's a lie!" Zuko's face was turning red, almost matching the color of his scar, Sokka had never seen the Delta operator lose his temper before. "You know who we're dealing with, otherwise we wouldn't have gone to Canada and I doubt you'd be clueless as to who it is we're going up against, uncle!" The familial term was a bit misplaced in the current surroundings they were in, but Sokka understood why Zuko was using it. Iroh sighed and looked up at his nephew, "Zuko, perhaps I kept who you were going after for your own good. It is a disturbing job that we've been given, one that not even your years in Delta have prepared you for."

Zuko looked his uncle over critically, he seriously doubted that his time with Delta hadn't prepared him for just about everything he would encounter in a combat zone. He had served in countries people had never heard of and done things that never appeared on after-action reports, what was so unique about this? Sokka observed the uncle and his nephew for a moment before he leaned forward and forced his voice to come out in even measures. "Sir, I'm sick of being in the dark," he said. "We took out Garrett two days ago, and now there's a string of terrorist attacks and a rebel counter-offensive in Russia. Now, I may be goofy looking, but I'm not an idiot. These things are linked." It was a bit of a leap, but Sokka didn't feel that these things were a coincidence.

Iroh rubbed his temple and heaved another great sigh before looking at a picture on the wall. The frame held the photo of a young Lieutenant in his dress blues with a maroon beret adorning his head, he looked familiar to Sokka. "I want to go out and get these people as much as all of you," Iroh said, "they're destroying all that's keeping this world from dissolving into another world conflict, but this is all out of my hands. I can't deploy the task force without the go ahead from the Secretary of Defense and he doesn't want to do anything drastic."

"Well to hell with that, the problem is in Russia, let's go there!" Zuko snarled.

"DAMN IT, ZUKO!" Iroh bellowed. Zuko suddenly became very quiet. And Sokka almost dove for cover.

"This is why you would have never made it as an officer, this temper of yours would have gotten you and your men killed! You never think these things through! You sometimes act as if you're still a boy, but you're not! You're a man now! And on top of that you're among the best soldiers on the planet; start acting like one!" Sokka wanted to dig a hole out of the office, he felt like he was intruding on a very personal thing between family members. General Iroh knew Zuko better than anyone else in the task force, and it seemed that his temper had strained their relationship in the past. "Chief, I think it would be best if you stepped out for a moment," Sokka said. Zuko shot him an angry look, it made Sokka wonder if he would have to fight the CWO. "I agree with Captain Kunayak," Iroh said. Zuko was faced with two superior officers telling him to make himself scarce. He had to comply. "Yes, sirs," he muttered before leaving the office, slamming the door as he left.

Sokka cut straight to the chase, "General, you can tell me who it is we're going after. In fact it'd be best if you told me," Sokka said. Iroh nodded hesitantly and passed Sokka a file which he flipped through until he came to a photo and the name attached to it. "Agent Azula Long…Oh crap," Sokka quickly realized exactly why Iroh hadn't told Zuko anything. The eyes were always a dead giveaway if the name didn't ring a bell first. "A friend of yours, I'm guessing," Sokka tried to lighten the mood. It sort of worked; Iroh gave him a grim smile. "She's my niece; Zuko's sister." The mentioning of someone's sister reminded Sokka of his own sibling, he hadn't spoken to her since before he shipped out to Russia. "What does she have to do with all of this?" he asked.

Iroh drummed his fingers on the desk and chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought, "I don't know for sure, no one does. Not yet anyways, but that's why Alpha-One _will_ be deployed; we need you in the field to gather intelligence. Langley will be doing the same." It still left a question unanswered in Sokka's mind.

"But where will we be deployed, sir?"

"I don't know, Sokka. That has yet to be decided and even if I knew it'd be classified. What I can tell you is that you and your unit should make some calls to friends and family while you can, because even I don't know when it is we will be coming back home. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some phone calls I must make as well."

Sokka left the building shortly afterward; the base was still rampant with even more activity than the days before. Zuko's sister, his own blood, had something to do with these attacks. From what he had seen on her file, the woman was very dangerous. Apart from being frighteningly intelligent according to her file, she was also the CIA's most efficient field agent before she defected. That was another term that messed with Sokka's head, "defected", in order for one to defect there had to be another side to go to. Sokka had no idea who the hell he was fighting, and he was sick of getting shady orders.

He barged into his barracks and looked around for things he would take with him overseas. Sokka's eye rested on his cellphone, he knew taking that device was out of the question; the roaming charges would kill him and it just didn't make sense to take such a superfluous item to an area of operations (AO). Besides, in all likelihood the military would have phones in the AO or some other means of communicating with their family, although they would probably be closely monitored due to the clandestine nature of their work.

The Marine switched on his laptop and looked through his phone as it booted up, his eyes lingered on his sister's name and number. He glanced at his watch and figured that if he was lucky, she would have the opportunity to speak with him. Sokka pressed on her name and selected "Call". The phone rang quite a few times, in fact he was sure that his sister would not pick up, and just when he was about to cancel the call, he heard her voice at the end of the line. _"Hello, Sokka?" _puzzlement evident in her tone. Sokka smiled at the sound of his sister's voice.

"Hey sis, how're you doing?" He hadn't seen her in months.

"_I'm doing well at the moment- I thought you were in Russia,"_ it was true, Sokka hadn't had the time to let her know he had come back to the states.

"I was, a few weeks ago," he had to be careful with his words, "but they brought me back for a… um… a consulting job in Fort Bragg." It was a half-truth; he figured it was better than a whole lie.

"_They brought a Marine in for a consulting job on an Army base? That's interesting... Well how's that going?"_ she said, Sokka could hear papers rustling in the background, and images of the operation in Canada flashed through his mind. "It's going well," he told her, "It _is_ interesting, that's for sure."

"_It's a bit weird that they took a Company commander away from his unit though, isn't it?" _Katara was a smart woman; she had caught a whiff of something odd. "Yeah, it is a bit weird, but I can't really say much about that." Sokka was hoping Katara would catch the subtext of what he said and she did. _"Oh, okay, I understand,"_ she said. Sokka could hear that she was multi-tasking and wondered if it would be better if he said good-bye and left Katara to her job. _"So, you heard about Camp Pendleton too, I'm guessing?"_ sadness marked her voice. "Yeah, I did, I'm pissed off about it and it's one of the reasons I called." Sokka fiddled with his laptop and looked up more information on the attacks.

"Katara, I'm asking for them to put me back in," it was a moment that reminded Sokka of the time he first told Katara he planned on joining the Marine Corps.

"_Are you sure that's best, Sokka, I think this consulting thing in Fort Bragg is a solid job and you're helping to train guys over there, right?"_ The whole lying thing really sucked. "Yeah, I'm sure about this, but enough about me, how's my favorite doctor doing?" Sokka wanted to change the subject; he didn't want to dwell on his imminent deployment. Katara was smiling, her brother could hear it in her voice as she spoke, _"She's doing well; although I expect some new patients here soon after everything that's happening in Russia. Sokka, listen, I've been meaning to tell you something,"_ Sokka did not like where this conversation was going.

"Go on."

"_I've been trying to see if I could find a place in a field hospital or a ship closer to an AO,"_ she said with a hint of worry.

"That doesn't really surprise me," he wasn't, in fact he wished she had surprised him and said she wanted to stay in the country helping wounded combat veterans. "You always wanted to help people, even if it meant putting your life on the line."

"_Isn't that what we'll both be doing over there?"_ she asked.

"Only if you're an optimist," Sokka said with a smile. "Or a liar; same thing really."

They spoke about things that happened to them since the last time they saw each other, Sokka did his best to slip in a question about Katara's dating life. Yes, she was a grown woman, but she was still his little sister and he took his job as her big brother very seriously, maybe even more seriously than being a Marine. She immediately caught the question and flipped it around, asking him if he had found anyone. He put it bluntly; there had been no other woman in his life after Yue. When she died, he had buried himself in his career; he took any mission he could find. He took his anger at her death out on anyone foolish enough to shoot at him. Cancer had taken his mother; he held special contempt for the illness and the word.

"Look," he decided to bring up the subject of her going overseas again. "If you do volunteer for a billet overseas, I'd be very proud of you, and so would dad. But be careful, frontlines have a tendency to shift very quickly these days."

"_I know,"_ she answered.

Sokka checked his inbox and saw that he had mail, he clicked on it. It was from General Iroh. Despite the fact that Sokka found his multitasking skills to be average at best, he read the email as he listened to his sister talk about one of her patients, a Marine who had been wounded in Russia. Sokka grunted so she would know he was listening; the email said that they would be leaving for the very same country they had all left weeks before. _"I think he'll be okay, but I don't know if he'll be able to go back," _concluded Katara. Her brother had only heard the latter half of what his sister had said in detail. "Better for him if he doesn't" Sokka said, "combat is an overrated experience." It was a bit odd that he was saying that as he read orders that were in fact sending him into combat.

"_Sokka, you'll be careful, right?"_ Katara had asked him the same question several times before. She always asked it before he deployed, and while it was sad the first two times, Sokka had grown to chuckle at the question. He was going to a combat zone; that alone was not being careful enough. "I'm always careful, you know that," he answered as there was a knock on his door. "Hey Katara, I got to go, if anything I'll leave a message for you before I leave," he was barely giving her time to answer and in a way he was lying. "I'll talk to you again when I can, love you sis." She said good-bye as well, and Sokka hung up. He wasn't a fan of drawn out good-byes.

He flung open the door and immediately found himself looking at Suki's eyes; this was starting to become a scheduled event. "Did you hear about the attacks?" he asked. She nodded and asked if she could enter, Sokka waved her in. "Did you get an email?" she put her hands together and twiddled her thumbs; Sokka had no idea that she had a laptop as well. "I did," he said with a cocked eyebrow, "I didn't know you had a laptop."

"I don't, but Zuko told me about our new orders. He got the email on his phone."

"Are you alright?"

Sokka had noticed that she wasn't her usual self; the Suki he knew was always cool, calm and collected. Her movements were jerky and her voice seemed to have taken on a higher pitch. "Yes, I'm alright, I'm just thinking the same thing as everyone else." Seeing as the day hadn't been all that good so far, they were all wondering if there were more targets. It was quite possible that Fort Bragg was one of them. "Are you afraid they'll hit London? That's where you're from right?" She nodded and rubbed her temple. "I have a lot of friends over there," she chuckled, "it's odd that I'm more worried about them and they don't even know where I am."

"What about your family?" It might have been crossing some professional line, but Sokka had never heard the Staff Sergeant speak about her family and it hadn't said much in her file.

Suki shook her head, "I don't have any family, I was orphaned at a young age, and I spent most of my childhood years in foster homes. As clichéd as it may sound; the Army was my way out of a fairly lonely and boring life." Sokka listened as he threw things into his duffle bag, he wasn't sure if the Army would leave his room alone or not but he figured that he could ask. "What about you, sir?" Suki wanted to know why Sokka had joined the Corps. "Haven't we discussed this before?" Sokka said as he saw a copy of his last will and testament lying on the desk. He quickly hid it from view.

"Toph asked you why you didn't shoot for OCS right away; I'm asking why you joined the Marines to begin with." Sokka looked up at her, their eyes meeting. He chewed on his lip for a second before answering. "Tell you what; to me that question means that we've run out of stuff to talk about. You can ask me again when we don't have anything else to talk about or if you think I'm not going to be alive shortly." Sokka wished he had stopped himself before saying the last part of that sentence. He winced and asked, "Was that too morbid?"

"Just a smidge," she muttered in a mildly playful tone. Her demeanor had shifted a bit.

"Sorry," he blushed. He decided to change the subject. "We need more firepower in the task force." Sokka had come to that conclusion the night before, when they returned, as he fell asleep.

He already had two machine gunners at his disposal and multiple riflemen; the problem was that the last time they had gone out, Sokka felt like his unit had been underpowered. He had learned that accuracy was always important, but then again so was firepower seeing as it made the enemy terrified, allowed the task force to lay down the hurt quickly and sowed chaos in an adversary's ranks. "How do you feel about being the unit's grenadier?" Sokka was hoping she wouldn't mind, while he had received extensive training on the M-203 grenade launcher, he never felt like he had truly mastered the weapon. Besides, he was the task force field commander; it would not be wise to use weapons that would draw even more enemy fire.

"I think I'd do a pretty good job," Suki said as she thought. "But to be quite honest I think our CWO would be much better suited to take that position." It seemed like a good choice, Zuko was the unofficial demo guy of the unit; why not give him the weapons that went boom? "I'll run the idea by him," Sokka nodded as he spoke. "I doubt he'd mind."

Another idea flashed through his mind. "Jet will be our second grenadier, I'm sure he'll like the extra fire power too." As Haru's spotter, Jet had the responsibility of providing security for his shooter when fights were closer than what a sniper was used to. Having the option of using a grenade launcher would be very nice for him. And it would add to the overall lethality of the unit in the field. "Do you know where in Russia we'll be going?" Suki asked. The problem was that her CO was just as clueless as she was, General Iroh and Rear Admiral Pakku would not let him know where they were going until the day they were leaving in order to preserve mission secrecy. So when Sokka shrugged, she had already expected it.

There was another knock on the door, Sokka flung it open once again and saw Toph looking back at him, her cheeks were red and fury was visible in her eyes. "They just hit a subway station in New York." Toph was from New York, there was reason for her fury. "Can you believe that? A couple of days pass after we go up north and they hit us right back!" Sokka didn't know about the strike against New York City, he had been there once before and found that he could see why people loved the city even if he preferred the more suburban, nomadic living he had grown accustomed to all his life. "Have you called your parents? Are they alright?" Suki knew enough about Toph to know that while the Ranger did not get along with her parents, she still cared about them. The Ranger nodded and ran her hand through her hair. "Yeah, my dad says my mom was a block away when the bomb went off, but she's okay, just a bit freaked out."

"You know, no one said that this attack was because of what we did in Ontario," Sokka interjected, hoping to quell the anger the Sergeant was feeling.

"Well then why else would such a coordinated attack be executed," Toph snarled. "We must be dealing with something bigger than we can possibly imagine." Her eyes narrowed. "The General and the Admiral are keeping something from us." Toph's distrust of officers was starting to rear its ugly head again. "We're on a need to know basis, Sergeant," said Sokka. "It's all part of being in a black ops unit; besides, even the General, and the Admiral get left in the dark about the missions." Toph was looking at one of the legs on Sokka's chair; her gaze was focused and intense. They were all angered by what had happened, by the attacks, but much like Sokka, the bombs exploded close to home for Toph.

Sokka rested his hand gently on her shoulder and spoke in the most comforting tone that he could muster. "I know you want some payback, Sergeant, and that's what we'll be going to Russia for." Toph clenched her jaw; her green eyes were still locked on the chair. Sokka looked up at Suki who had a worrisome expression etched on her features. Sometimes anger and other intense emotions made people take unnecessary risks, Sokka had seen it before, and odds were that Suki had as well. But Toph would have plenty of time to cool down before they went on a mission, or at least he hoped so. "When do we leave?" Toph's eyes narrowed. "Soon, Sergeant, now go get your stuff ready, we're off of this base by tomorrow morning at 0400. And spread the word."

As he walked Toph out, Sokka leaned against the door frame with Suki at his side; they watched the vengeful Ranger walk down the hall as they spoke.

"Where's Zuko?" Suki asked.

"He's cooling off; did you know that he has a bit of a temper?"

"No, but I do now," she gave him a small smile. "It's not going to be a problem is it?"

"It hasn't been up to this point, besides, he's a good soldier and we need him around."

C Company crossed Sokka's mind, and how he hadn't heard about them. They would be facing this new rebel offensive in Russia, were they fighting as he thought about them? Or had they been wiped out? The second question made Sokka's stomach do a flip. His biggest fear was not that he would die in battle, but that his company would be wiped out. He feared that they would suffer over fifty percent casualties in an engagement. But all of that was out of his hands now; he had no control over Charlie Company's fate. "If you want to call friends, or buy a book or something so you have some entertainment to break the boredom over there, now's the time Staff Sergeant." Sokka had suffered through long periods of monotony during all of his combat tours; books were a good way of passing the time even if he had to reread the same one multiple times. "I already handled that, sir." Suki answered. "Besides, I think we'll have too much on our plate to deal with anyway." She patted him on the shoulder as she left to get her stuff together.

He watched as she walked away, his eyes flashed over her body once before he mentally reprimanded himself that she was his team leader, and nothing else. Sexual urges had no place on the modern battlefield. He went back into his room and threw his cammies into his duffle bag along with some underwear and of course gear for the cold. He logged off and powered down his laptop, there would be no need for it in Russia. Sokka reached for his pocket-sized copy of _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu. Just about every officer he met had read it over and over again, in fact he took it with him on every combat tour, and this one would be no different. As he looked over the dog eared and frayed copy, he thought about what Suki had said. He felt in his bones that this tour was going to be very different, and that reading would probably not take up a big part of his days. Sokka sighed and stuffed the book into one of his pockets anyway. It was quite possible that the book was his good luck charm, and he wasn't throwing that away.

Forty eight hours later, the task force was operating in Russia. There first mission in the war torn country seemed straight forward. In fact, Toph said it was too straight forward for a unit like theirs. It put everyone on edge and reminded Sokka that he hadn't had the chance to call his father before deployment. After Toph had announced her opinion on the mission, William and Haru expressed the same sentiments. Sokka tried to ignore their worrying; he didn't want to think that the mission would suddenly get more complicated because of misinformation. The Marine officer hoped that his Weapons Sergeant, his sniper and his Corpsman were just feeling the effects of the jitters they all felt during an op, and that their suspicions would not be confirmed. Two hours into the mission, they would be.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Operation Guillotine and the Battle of Myasnik**

To the Southeast of a small Russian town called Myasnik, on top of a hill, Joint Task Force Alpha-One was in position overlooking the rolling landscape below. They had the highest ground in the area for a reason; it gave them the best position to do some recon on the town from a distance, it was their Observation Point, their OP. Their objective was actually several miles to the northeast, in a town called Dukhovka, where a rebel commander was designated for termination and they had been tasked with making sure it happened. It seemed like a straight forward mission, however, several red flags had gone up when they had received orders to halt and take up a good position southeast of Myasnik.

It didn't take long for Sokka to analyze the situation; he then figured that it would be best if he kept quiet for the moment about his theory. Sokka theorized that the task force was basically caught in between two very large forces. To their west was the UN, to the east the rebels were making a push with federal Russian forces in pursuit even further east. A talk with command then confirmed his suspicions. He spoke with Iroh, who leveled with him and sent him updated maps of the area and the forces operating in them.

West of their position, the U.S Army's 2nd Infantry Division was rolling east to cut off any sort of escape route the rebels were planning on using. Sokka immediately thought that the rebels would be massacred, until the General told him that their satellites had picked up massive infrared signals moving aggressively towards the 2nd Infantry. The rebels had acquired a force of third generation main battle tanks and they were heading towards Myasnik in the hopes of capturing the town and its vital crossroads. If they did this, and they spanked the 2nd Infantry; the UN's entire right flank would be left wide open. So in other words, JTF Alpha-One was caught in between two massive sledgehammers, and command was hesitant to ask if Sokka wanted to call for extraction. Even if they had asked, Sokka would have said no. He told his unit what was happening, they all became very anxious when the words "enemy armor" were brought up. Tanks were scary to face, even if you were in one yourself.

Their mission parameters had changed, while they were to kill the rebel commander, they were to mark targets of opportunity for UN aircraft using the Special Operations Forces Laser Acquisition Marker, or SOFLAM for short as well. Aang sat behind the contraption, well hidden and yawning. Dawn was fast approaching and they all knew that they were about to witness a titanic clash soon. Or they could just be the witnesses to a horrific slaughter after the more experienced American tankers wiped the floor with the rebels. Sokka keyed the mike and called for Suki, "Vertigo, come back." She was further down the reverse slope somewhere behind them, setting up early warning systems and claymores. Sokka had made it a point to tell them that the rebels could try to gain the high ground since they lacked air support. And if they tried to roll T-90s up on the ridge, the task force was screwed.

"_Hold on, sir,"_ Suki answered, _"I'm a bit busy with these claymores."_

Sokka waited, Zuko pointed at a very small hill over to their left, he said that the 2nd Infantry guys would try to gain the advantage of high ground as well. "It seems like the right thing for them to do, but then again, we're not tankers now are we?" Sokka looked through his own SOFLAM as he answered. He was starting to get fidgety; they had been static for way too long. "Those guys in the 2nd Infantry better kick ass," said Zuko. "Otherwise it's going to be impossible for us to make it to our objective with enemy armor in control of the plains. Luckily I brought a little surprise." Zuko was talking about the Javelin he had sitting lying next to him. He had removed it from its perch on top of his ruck sack when they received news about the enemy armor. With the Javelin switched on to top attack mode, the missile would drop down on the weakest part of a tank's armor: the top. The elevated firing position also helped matters. "Vertigo, are you done with those mines yet?" Sokka hissed into the mike. _"I just finished, sir. What do you need?"_

"I need you and your team to provide rear security for us." She answered that she was taking care of it.

Zuko edged closer and pointed to a large tree over his shoulder. "I don't think the rebels will be able to roll tanks up here with all these trees in the way." The Captain looked over his shoulder at the trees all around him; he then turned his attention to the slope in front and saw more trees. He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about the trees before. "Damn it," Sokka groaned as he buried his face in his arms. "Brain fart," Sokka chuckled. Zuko just looked at his superior and shrugged. "All we have to watch out for is dismounted mechanized infantry trying to get up here to shoot off anti-tank rockets." Zuko said as he looked through his IR scope. "We can deal with that," Sokka replied. They waited for a few more hours, by then the sun had come up and the 2nd Infantry Division was clearly visible a few miles away, advancing on the town of Myasnik. Aang then announced that he saw movement to the east; the battle was inevitable, and JTF Alpha-One had front row seats. "Aang, get that radio ready," Sokka then keyed his mike again and spoke to the squad. "Things are about to get loud on the plains; Haru, you and Jet are weapons free, everyone make sure you maintain sound and light discipline and that your IR beacons are activated."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Staff Sergeant Christopher Staten stood in the command turret of his M1A2 Abrams tank as it rolled down the road towards Myasnik. His tank was part of Second Platoon, D Company, of 2nd Battalion, 9th Infantry. He tapped the back of his helmet hard to alleviate some of the itching he felt on his scalp before switching back to scanning the area with his binoculars. Staten had decided that they were entering a combat environment so he ordered his driver to button up and his loader and gunner to remain safely below, he alone would risk getting picked off by a sniper. But even then he was fairly certain that his crew could operate well without him, it was what he had trained them for.

His Abrams, which his loader, Specialist Bevin, had affectionately named "Big Sexy", was the third tank in his platoon and currently the fifth vehicle in the armored column that was his company heading towards Myasnik. They were all part of the 1st Heavy Brigade Combat Team; behind them were the 2nd and 3rd Stryker Brigade Combat Teams. That left one more Stryker Brigade in reserve as well as the Combat Aviation Brigade that would back them up from the air, if things got bad they would be able to fall back and regroup behind a curtain of close air support, or CAS as they called it, and a wall of shrapnel and explosions from the Field Artillery Regiment to their rear. His platoon commander, Lieutenant Fischer, had been blunt with them though, and had mentioned that the 210th was being delayed due to a severe supply screw up that had them operating at half their usual strength, they would also need to be stingy with their ammunition. It sounded pretty bad, but he assured them that they had more than enough firepower to do the job they had been tasked with. But he could not help but wonder how formidable the enemy was if the Army had sent an entire Division towards two small towns, Myasnik and Dukhovka which was further to the northeast. But that was not their problem, last he heard the two other Brigade Combat Teams were taking care of that town. Myasnik was more important anyways since there was a crossroads branching out from the there.

Staten saw a large vehicle come over the small hill ahead of them, if they were hostile, Second Lieutenant Fischer would have told everyone one to button down, after firing off a snapshot HEAT round at the vehicle. All of the tanks were in a combat zone, so according to protocol they all kept a round chambered in their 120mm M256 Smoothbore cannon, because of this all the tanks had their guns aimed so they wouldn't be pointing at the tank in front of them. The vehicle drew closer, followed by a second one at which point Staten saw that the vehicles were in fact Stryker Light Armored Vehicle that the Company commander had sent ahead to do recon. Lieutenant Fischer called for the convoy to halt; Staten repeated the order to his driver in case he didn't hear it over his headset. Staff Sergeant Staten leaned on his .50 Cal as he watched the Strykers come to a halt next to Captain Martel's tank and the hatch popped open.

While Staten could not hear what they were saying, he noticed that the Stryker commander looked flustered and was speaking in a rapid fire manner; his arms were flailing as if he was emphasizing a point. "What's going on, Staff Sar'nt?" Specialist Bevin's Texas drawl came from Staten's left, the Staff Sergeant turned and was annoyed to find the Specialist with his head sticking out of the hatch. "The Captain is talking to the recon team; didn't I give the order to button down?" The Bostonian growled at his loader. "Roger that, Staff Sergeant," Bevin answered before ducking back into the tank. The Stryker commander and Martel were done talking; they fired up the diesel and sped past the column. As the two vehicles passed, Staten got a good look at the damage they had taken. Bullet hits riddled the armor on the Stryker; he even saw a part of the slat armor had taken a hit. They must have taken a lot of fire for an RPG to make it past the Stryker's defense systems. And both of his TOW anti-tank missile tubes were empty.

Hmm, Staten thought, that's fairly interesting. Staff Sergeant Staten looked ahead and saw the faint wisps of dark smoke dissipating into the Russian dawn. There were two columns, meaning that both of the Stryker's missiles had found their targets. That also meant that there was a possibility that there was enemy armor advancing on the same position as them. Captain Martel gave the order for the company to form up in a wedge formation. Each tank platoon was an individual wedge; then each platoon would become a part of the much larger company-sized wedge. It was the best formation for taking on an unknown enemy force. In all it took a few minutes for the company to form up.

While Specialist Bevin referred to their tank as Big Sexy, she was known as Bravo 3 over the net, and they were currently on the farthest end of the platoon's wedge. Staff Sergeant Staten was no stranger to combat; he had done one tour in Afghanistan, although there weren't many enemy tanks to engage there. Specialist Bevin had played in the sandbox as well, and their gunner, Corporal Juan Carlos Valdez had been a machine gunner on a Stryker. Granted that was very different from being a gunner on an Abrams, but still, some experience was better than no experience. Their driver on the other hand was fresh out of Fort Knox, this was Private Bobby Butler's first time in combat and Staten was surprised by how well he was handling the jitters. Because of his quasai FNG status, they had decided to call Butler "Bing-Bing", to see just how thick his skin was.

As they progressed up the slope, Staten took notice of the hill over to their far right. It must have been at least a mile or two away, that put it well within the effective range of the Russian T-90 and T-80 tanks the rebels had stolen from that military base a few days before. It was as he studied that hill that the first mortar of the day landed right next to his tank, the overpressure rocked his body as he let out a loud curse over the net. Staten was thrown against the hatch as shrapnel peppered the armored skin of the Abrams. A hand grabbed his Kevlar vest and yanked him down into the tank, it was Corporal Valdez. "_Cojones_, man you didn't hear that incoming?" Staten looked up at him and answered bluntly, "No." He reached up and closed the hatch. Staten flipped up the commander's chair and took his position behind the gunner. _"Steady, guys." _Captain Martel, Bravo Six, ordered over the radio. _"It's just mortar fire, let's push over that hill. Second and third platoons advance first on the flanks, the first and I will push up the center right behind you. Move it!"_

Second platoon moved up on the flank as ordered, the Abrams tanks in front with the Strykers behind them, protected by the wedge formation. If they encountered enemy infantry, the Strykers would unload their own nine-man squads, equipped with small arms and AT rockets they could more or less fend for themselves. The tanks accelerated, kicking up mud behind them as they advanced and finally made it over the crest of the hill. Staten looked through his Independent Thermal Viewer (ITV), ready for a target to show up as a bright orange tank-like shape on the display. He saw multiple heat signatures, and to him they all looked equally threatening. "Target: 2 o' clock, BTR!" Valdez spotted the thin skinned BTR which was no match for the Abrams, or the HEAT round it already had loaded in the breech. "Target acquired!" Valdez called out. "Fire!" the HEAT round exploded from the tank's gun, it lanced forward at over 1,600 meters a second and made contact with the BTR, puncturing the armor, igniting the fuel and incinerating the poor men within. "That's a kill!" Staten announced. He scanned for more enemy armor when he noticed smaller heat signature moving away from the destroyed BTR, before Staten and his crew had taken it out the BTR had managed to unload its infantry. And from the plume of smoke that came from one of the figures, they were armed with RPGs.

The platoon was too exposed on the hill top, they were static and that was not a good position to be in if you were in a tank. The rest of the platoon began engaging the targets that they saw; Valdez worked on the exposed infantry with the Abrams' coaxial M240. "Pour it on those pricks, J.C. Those are RPG teams, damn it!" Explosions fountained from the ground as the field artillery joined the fight and fired off a prolonged barrage from their positions five miles away. The Paladin mobile gun platforms were a bit closer, and would be able to provide more immediate fire support as needed. "I'm looking at a shitload of tree clusters, Staff Sergeant," Valdez observed. "There might be more RPG teams hiding there." As Staten listened to his gunner, he did his best to eavesdrop on the radio chatter on the company wide net. While Captain Martel had given them the order to advance on the enemy, someone else claimed that they weren't seeing any T-90s; just one more thing for everyone to worry about.

Staten also listened as an unidentified voice came over the net and demanded that he be able to contact the company commander of the tanks closest to the hill over to the right. He wanted to speak to Captain Martel, who waved him off and told him to get off the channel. But the man was persistent and said that he was a Captain in the Marines, and he was sitting on an over watch position that gave him a great view of the battlefield. _"How did you get on this channel?"_ Martel shouted at him. A tank shell streaked past Big Sexy and exploded next to them on the hillside. A platoon of T-80s suddenly emerged from one of the tree clusters that Valdez had mentioned, fire belching from the end of their guns as they charged at Alpha Company. "We got some MBTs rolling at us out of that tree cluster at 10 o' clock! Load sabot!" Staten ordered. "Target acquired," Valdez screamed over the racket made by bullets and shrapnel pinging off the tank's armor. "FIRE!" Staten put more emphasis on his second command to fire since they were engaging a tank.

The sabot kinetic energy penetrator exited the Smoothbore barrel of the Abrams and discarded its boot midway through its flight. Without the need for assistance from explosives, the sabot hit just to the right of the T-80's turret and glanced off. "Load sabot!" Staten had not expected the shot to go high and to the right. "Bing-Bing, keep moving!" They needed to get into a position so the T-80 would present a bigger target picture to them. Big Sexy wheeled to the right at full speed, RPGs and tank shells either missing or not penetrating the Chobham armor. They practically barreled right into a tree cluster trying to flank the rebel tank platoon. But it worked and they had a shot at the T-80's flank, they fired the sabot round and watched as it penetrated the outdated reactive armor. Molten spall then did the rest as the remainder of the penetrator's particles and the tank's own armor made it into the interior of the tank and killed the crew as it ignited the ammunition stacked around the inside of the turret due to the auto-loader. The explosion popped the turret right off the tank's chassis.

"That's a kill!" Staten announced as Bevin let out a whoop. None of them had ever killed another main battle tank before, it was quite an accomplishment after the majority of them had spent their careers as tankers sitting in the turret on peacekeeping missions or firing an errant round to deter insurgents. The rest of the platoon scored more kills against the outclassed Russian tanks. The Strykers even managed to score a few hits of their own with the TOW missiles and some that were equipped as 105mm mobile gun platform. The American's extensive training and refined communications technology was beginning to overpower the rebel forces with their tenacity, knowledge of the terrain and the newly acquired armor.

Shells landed among the formations, Captain Martel order for the guns to add 100 more meters to their barrage every 30 seconds and stopping before their barrels were parallel with the ground. By that time the company was taking on more infantry, supported by armored fighting vehicles. The infantry was able to move more quickly than the tanks could traverse their turrets and aim effectively, and on top of that they could get too close for them to level their gun at the men. If a squad managed to get around an Abrams and score a solid hit with an AT missile, they would be disabled or dead. Lieutenant Fischer ordered the Strykers to unload their infantry and hunt for the RPG teams that were harassing them. "Bing-Bing, move up so we can provide support for that Stryker!" Butler accelerated the tank and positioned himself between the Stryker and a group of shell holes that Staten had seen produce a rocket back blast a few seconds before. _"Stryker 2, unloading infantry, thanks for the cover, Bravo."_ The Stryker commander said with an eerie calm. A T-80 suddenly rolled into view, followed by a BTR; their confidence renewed by the arrival of their back-up, the rebel infantry in the shell holes emerged and advanced parallel to the tank using it as cover while it moved around the Abrams. The T-80 fired once and the round didn't penetrate the Abrams' frontal armor.

The BTR fired at its American counterpart who returned fire in kind with its fifty. A couple of rebel infantrymen dropped and didn't get back up again. "Track that tank, shit!" Staten grimaced as an artillery shell fell short and hit right in front of his ITV, making the screen go bright orange for a moment. He reacted immediately and stuck his head up to look through the view ports, but the rebel tank had shifted positions. "Valdez, can you see the T-80?" he scanned the area, doing his best to ignore the shell impact and found the T-80 in position and turning its turret to aim at them. "Target: Russian tank, to our 9. Traverse, Valdez, traverse! Bevin, give me a silver bullet in the breech!" Bevin kneed the lever to open the ammunition compartment and grabbed another sabot round. As the turret traversed, the T-80 finally came into view. Staten was staring right down its barrel; it had flanked them.

"SABOT UP!"

"Oh fuck," Staten muttered as he waited for the tank to fire. But it didn't. The tank stood there, its gun locked into position aimed at them when it suddenly turned its chassis towards them and spun its tracks. Valdez locked on to the tank and fired the sabot. Another kill for Big Sexy. "What the fuck happened there?" Valdez exclaimed, he knew that they should be on fire instead of talking but no one was complaining. "Maybe his auto-loader got fucked up?" Bevin proposed. It made sense; auto-loaders weren't always the most cooperative of machines, especially on the old T-80. "It doesn't matter," Staten said. "That was luck; we don't get another one of those. Lock onto that BTR!" The turret turned towards the BTR they had not engaged before and saw that it had been taken out.

A second Abrams pushed up past them, it was Lieutenant Fischer's tank. _"You owe me one, Staff Sergeant!"_ he called out as he charged at another vehicle. "Bing-Bing, follow the L-T!" Over the net, Staten could hear Martel calling for more fire support as he argued with the guy on the hill again. _"Captain Martel, there is a force of T-90s lying in wait for your guys over the next hill; I'm calling CAS in on them._

"_Who is this?"_ the Captain screamed again. _"Get off the fucking net!"_

"_Damn it! This is Captain Kunayak with Marine Special Operations Command! I'm trying to fucking help you here!"_ Even though they were all in the heat of battle, Staten and his crew were caught by surprise at the Marine's tone. _"Now, stand by for the fireworks. Light 'em up, Baldy,"_ he said to someone else they couldn't see.

This proposition put Captain Martel in an odd position, there was a chance that he had a special operations squad guiding CAS for him, but he could not confirm it with HQ. _"All elements hold your positions,"_ he ordered. Staff Sergeant Staten thought the man was insane.

Big Sexy came to halt right in front of a tree cluster, his ITV immediately picked up small heat signatures. He counted 14 in total and there were a few with what looked like RPGs. "Load a canister shot," Staten had used canister ammunition several times before. He was basically turning his tank's main armament into a giant shotgun. "Fire when ready!" Staten said as Bevin unloaded the M1028 canister from the ammunition compartment. "How far do you think they are, Staff Sergeant?" Bevin asked. "FIRE!" Staten shouted again. The canister exited the tank's gun barrel; the tungsten balls began to spread out almost immediately and turned more than half the 14-man rebel squad into raw meat. "There are a couple of stragglers running around, Staff Sergeant," Valdez observed. "Stay on 'em," the Abrams traversed its turret to the right, trying to track the remaining men but the ITV's reticle halted in place. "The turret isn't moving!" Staten's mind raced to find a solution to their problem. "There must be a tree blocking the turret," he concluded.

He reached up and flung the hatch open and took his position behind the .50, he was exposed, but that didn't matter. The rapid fire thunder burst from the M2's barrel, cutting down rebels. Some wore body armor, but it made no difference to the powerful rounds the Ma-Deuce fired. As the last man was ripped to shreds by a burst, another squad joined the fray and engaged Staten. They were seeking cover from the incoming American artillery and instead found an Abrams with a maniac on the turret firing off large amounts of ammunition at them. "Butler, get us out of here, now!" Staten hollered into his mike, rebel rounds were pinging dangerously close to his arms, so he did his best to get as small as possible behind the fifty. He focused on his aim, ignored the enemy rounds and continued to fire as the Abrams backed out of the cluster.

As Staten ducked back into the turret, he shouted as a mortar exploded nearby and the shockwave hit him. "Are you alright?" Valdez asked, worried about his tank commander. "I'm alright, I just banged by arm, that's all," Staten waved him off. He took his position once again and winced at the throbbing he felt in his arm. "Butler, back the hell up and get us back over that second hill, we need to form up with the rest of the platoon," that was when Staten realized that he couldn't feel his fingers. Without taking his eyes off the ITV, Staten allowed his other hand to trace a path down towards his right hand. He stopped when his gloved fingers bumped into something hot and much denser than human bone. Staten looked down, "I'm hit," he muttered.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Back up on the hill, Sokka watched with a clenched jaw as the American armored force charged into the rebel tank formations that were lying in wait for them. He was surprised to see how well of a fight they were putting up and that the Americans were taking a few losses. None of them were Abrams though; all the vehicles that were out of commission were Strykers. But that had been enough for Sokka to get on the horn and demand a line to the nearest company commander. If he and his unit could support them with accurate CAS, they might be able to break the rebel forces and thereby make Alpha-One's mission just a bit simpler. "What's the status on that air support, Aang?" Sokka bit his lip to quell his nerves.

Aang spoke into the radio for a second before turning back to his CO. "We have two flights of Thunderbolts coming in from the south, they want us to laze important targets with our SOFLAMs," Aang went back to looking through his SOFLAM and writing on a notepad he had out. Sokka didn't need to ask what he was doing, as a Recon Marine he had sketched landscapes numerous times to provide battlefield commanders with a more detailed picture of what was ahead. Although, that picture was usually very poorly drawn, but they still served their purpose. "Everyone," Sokka said over the net, "if you have laser designators and you see a juicy target: mark it. But make sure it isn't friendly. Aang, get that tank CO on the horn again and tell him to get small," if he didn't then there might be a friendly fire incident with the Thunderbolt's massive 30mm cannon.

"I still have no idea how you got through to them," Zuko said from his prone position to the left of Sokka. "You'd be surprised what a good radio operator and some sweet talk will get done, Chief," Sokka smiled even though he knew Zuko wouldn't. "Sir, you do know that you're probably screwing up their communications down there, right?" Sokka's second in command had a point. Odds were that he was mucking up things, but it was better for the CO to know there was someone up on the hill trying to help him and his unit rather than risk a friendly fire incident. _"Royal Six, this is Psycho, come back,"_ Jet's voice hissed in Sokka's ear. "Yeah, what is it?"

"_Magnum and I had to reposition, we engaged a squad of rebels at 1-0-1-3 meters and I think they called up for some armor,"_ Haru had asked for a different call sign and so they gave him the namesake "Magnum" in honor of his mustache which they said resembled Tom Sellack's. After that Aang had asked for a different call sign as well, but they denied him that and the name Elmer still stuck.

"Roger that, Psycho, do you think they spotted you?"

"_Negative, but we'll know soon enough,"_ there was a pause as Jet and Haru were busy setting up again. _"But I do think they might try that flanking maneuver you mentioned earlier."_

If they tried that flanking maneuver, the task force could just lay low and hope they'd pass, but that was out of the question since the flanking maneuver would result in the deaths of numerous Americans. Alpha-One could engage the enemy forces that were attempting to flank, but that might result in their own deaths, or worse: their capture. "Psycho, keep me posted on any enemy movement you see, you understand?"

"_Wilco, Psycho out."_

"Vertigo, I need you and your people to dig in on a position overlooking the base of the hill. Do you know how to use that Gustav I gave you?" Sokka had brought the 84mm man-portable recoilless rifle with them when he learned that they would be running around behind enemy lines and that the rebels had just stolen some Russian Federation armor. He carried the weapons and the ammunition, but handed it off to Suki and Toph when they decided to go out on a recon mission. _"Yeah, I can manage, sir. Why do you ask? Are we going to need it soon?"_

"Possibly, but keep your fingers crossed we don't."

"_Roger that, sir, Outlaw, Hammer and I are almost in position and we have a little present set at the base of the hill,"_ there was a hint of glee in her voice.

It was at that point that the A-10 Thunderbolts roared overhead, flying at subsonic speeds. They opened up on an enemy that Sokka just barely caught a glimpse of. Flashes of light illuminated the battlefield for fractions of a second and then the horrifying buzz followed along with the detonation of the enemy's armor. Supersonic rounds were always a wonder to witness. "A-10s, the only thing in the world that can fart and raise morale at the same time. Did you know that I served with a guy who actually used to call it 'The Fart of Doom'?" Sokka said with a grin, referring to the distinctive sound the A-10's cannon made. Aang chuckled quietly from his end, while Zuko allowed a ghost of a smile to appear on his features for a split second.

"Getting to Dukhovka might be a bit of a problem, sir," Zuko said as he looked over his own tactical pad, back to business.

"One problem at a time, Chief," Sokka answered. "One problem at a time; Vertigo, are you in position yet?"

"_I just got into position, sir… We're - Stand by…"_ she suddenly muttered. A few seconds passed, and then Sokka heard the mortar hit.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Staten leaned back as much as he could, gripping his arm as blood seeped out from in between his fingers and created a dark spot on his sleeve. He wasn't hit too badly, although the piece of shrapnel was still embedded in his flesh. As long as he kept the chunk of metal in his arm, he wouldn't bleed too badly. Or at least that was what he had heard. "Keep doing your job!" Staten ordered when he saw Bevin make a move towards him. The tank was still moving forward, the infantry was handling the rebels who had survived Big Sexy's onslaught and they were free to maneuver.

The Abrams advanced a bit as the A-10s did their job; strafing targets that none of the tankers could see. _"All Bravo elements form up on me damn it!"_ the Captain shrieked. Suddenly a scream came over the net as one of the Abrams took a direct hit from a new opponent that had just crested the small hill: The Russian T-90. Staten wasted no time and ordered Valdez to sight the T-90 and for Bevin to load a new sabot round. "Sabot up!" Bevin shouted as he closed the breech and cleared the recoil. Staten watched as another kinetic round hit the T-90's flank, but the penetrator struck one of the reactive armor plate and was rendered ineffective.

The T-90, while a formidable tank, lacked the one thing the Abrams crews had: superior training and experience. And the rebel crew had exposed the weak top of their tank since they were on a slope. Staten gave the command to fire, and the round hit home. Russia's premiere battle tank; and he and his crew had killed one. _"Shit, they got Lieutenant Fischer's tank!"_ someone screamed over the radio. Staten stood up and looked through his viewports to see the burning hulk of the Abrams. The Staff Sergeant was sure that no one survived the explosion, but saw figures exit the vehicle. Staten counted: one, two, three, a few seconds passed and a fourth figure did not appear. "Butler, move up so we can give the crew some cover!" But before Bing-Bing could move the tank into position, a Stryker raced forward, armed only with an M2 and dropped its rear ramp. A group of soldiers got out and ran over to the crew despite the ridiculous volume of mortar and artillery fire that was raining down on the position.

One of the soldiers, most likely the squad leader, turned his attention towards Big Sexy whom he had noticed had come to a halt and was turning towards them. He waved them off and screamed that he had the situation under control, although Staten could not hear them. An old BMP came over the hill and traversed its turret to get a bead on the Stryker with its unloaded troop cargo. The crew stupidly ignored the Abrams, and would pay for their blunder as Big Sexy lurched forward with her turret in position. The BMP got off one round before it went up in a ball of flame, but the Stryker's slat armor did its job.

The A-10s came back around for another pass, and this time they used their AGM-65 Maverick missiles. Geysers of flame and smoke were visible over the ridge. The Captain was about to push over the ridge when he halted and had the remainder of the company do the same. They all groaned in frustration but then changed their attitude when they witnessed one of the A-10s dropped a cluster bomb which promptly made all of them shut up. _"Alright, the A-10s are backing off for a bit! Let's push up and finish them off!"_ Captain Martel screamed as he ordered his tank to press forward. The Abrams accelerated at top speed up the slope. Sergeant First Class Gantts, who had assumed command of Second Platoon, followed right behind him in his own tank; ordering the men to keep space in between their vehicles.

As they crested the hill, they witnessed the horrific handiwork of the A-10s. At first glance, Staten could count eight burned out tanks and several other knocked out BTRs and BMPs just on his ITV screen. Sprinkled amongst the dead armored vehicles, were ones that were still kicking and had their guns trained on the hill. One round exploded near Big Sexy, drawing the crew's attention. "I see a T-90, on the run, it just shot at us," Staten announced. But a second tank pushed up out of an embankment at the edge of the field and fired a round at the cluster of Abrams. The Russian round went wild, and instead struck Captain Martel's vehicle in the right-rear of the turret; igniting the ammunition. _"SHIT!"_ Captain Martel's scream quieted the radio chatter. The explosion caused by the detonated ammunition, was vented out through the rear of the turret and away from the crew. In all likelihood they were probably deaf or unconscious but they were alive. Or at least that was what Staten hoped. He watched as the driver, who had remained conscious, being in his own compartment in the front of the tank, kicked the tank into reverse and backed off in favor of the cover provided by the reverse slope.

First Lieutenant Duvall took over immediately and began engaging targets in the Captain's place, coordinating the company's fire and pressing down the slope to they wouldn't remain static atop the hill. It was basically a mop up; the final T-90s were too outnumbered and uncoordinated to put up an effective fight. They were all destroyed within twenty minutes. The infantry was another manner entirely though; Staten received the surprise of his life when one of his fellow tankers told him that there were Russian rebels climbing on his tank. They had been hiding in a ditch and waiting for an American tank to get close enough before clambering all over it. One of the tanks in Second platoon calmly rolled up to him and fired a canister round at the tank. None of the tungsten balls had the capability to pierce the Abrams' armor, so they just killed the men climbing on Big Sexy. It was with that last shot that the Battle of Myasnik reached its final phase.

Since the Battalion was low on fuel, they swung in an arch towards Myasnik and halted on the hill top overlooking the town and fired one a few vehicles that were deemed hostile. Their firing positions provided them with excellent defilade and finally allowed Staten to get proper medical attention as his tank was refueling. The two Stryker crews he had stuck his neck out for during the battle would repeatedly mention him to the Battalion CO. The Bostonian would receive the Army Commendation Medal for his actions along with the rest of his crew. Staten would also receive the Purple Heart for the wounds he sustained.

But all of that had to wait; the grim realities of war came first. Staten had his crew wipe down some of the hatches that were smeared with blood, bits of flesh and flecks of bone and brain that once belonged to the Russian rebels that had climbed on the tank. Big Sexy was reasonably clean afterwards or at least her hatches, view ports and sensors were anyways. Specialist Bevin's mounted M240 would also need to be replaced since a few tungsten balls had ripped through the weapon's barrel and receiver. Lieutenant Fischer had been decapitated by the round that took out his tank and Captain Martel had received several wounds and burns to his body along with his crew. He would end up losing the ability to hear in his left ear permanently, while his loader lost an eye. The Battalion had also suffered numerous infantry casualties, along with the two knocked out tanks a five Strykers that were out of commission permanently; in all the Battalion had 26 men K.I.A and at least 50 wounded. There was one man missing, but they eventually found one of his legs with a dog tag tucked in the laces and chalked it up to 27 K.I.A.

As Staff Sergeant Chris Staten sat in the turret with his arm in a sling, listening to Valdez talk about how he missed drinking his mother's Cuban coffee back in his hometown of Miami and Bevin arguing that he doubted the coffee as a strong as it was reputed to be. With hostilities over, Butler took advantage of the break and was urinating right next to the tank. "Hell of a day, huh Staff Sergeant?" he called out. "Mm-yup," he answered curtly. "Good job out there, Bing-Bing." Butler refrained from giving his tank commander a dirty look but turned when he heard the rumbling of artillery fire from behind them.

They both turned and off in the distance they saw small plumes for dirt and smoke erupt from the tallest hill in the area. The recon Predator drones had returned to base to refuel so the Battalion had no idea what was going on there. The sound of machine gun fire reverberated through the rolling hills, there were some big guns being put to use. For some reason, the Marine Captain crossed his mind.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"Dragon, Dragon, this is Royal Six, our position has been compromised. I'm looking at twenty-plus rebel foot-mobiles with BMPs for back up advancing up the hill," Sokka grimaced as a round snapped overhead; somehow they had snuck up on them. They had bypassed Jet and Haru's hide and made it straight toward Suki and her team's position. He fired down the slope at the slowly advancing rebels, there was a scream and he assumed he might have hit one of them. For some reason he could not get through to the General, and he had limited access to satellite and drone imagery so he had no idea how many rebels there were behind the first group of twenty.

"Fuck, Aang try to get through to Teo, there's plenty of open space behind us where he can bring in his Osprey, and if you can get some CAS here now?" Sokka keyed his mike so everyone would hear him. "Everyone collapse back towards the crest, we'll advance back down the hill and the enemy will purse. They'll be right in our irons as soon as they come over the top," Alpha-One had been holding their position for the past ten minutes against a sustained enemy attack in the hopes that they would turn tail and run since the smaller force held their ground.

They had a mission to accomplish and they were already burning through magazines of ammo; they had already fired off two rounds from the Gustav and scored a hit on a BMP. But still this did not deter the rebels. Sokka sighed as Aang looked at him and shook his head after screaming into the radio for a good three minutes trying to reach Teo. _"I told you guys this was going to get complicated!"_ Toph shouted. The Marine cursed and began laying down suppressive fire as the two teams he had sent out to guard the OP's six o' clock finally made it to the top and went prone to return fire. More rebels seemed to pop up and Sokka quietly cursed his luck and the Universe's clear dislike of him.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Race to the Link-Up**

Captain Sokka Kunayak was in a bad position. His unit had just been discovered by Russian rebels on a hilltop and promptly hammered with mortars. They didn't take any casualties but it rattled them; what came next though was worse. They counted about two or three platoons of men advancing on the hill and JTF Alpha-One lacked the necessary fire and air support to have them back off so the task force could break contact and make their way to a secondary LZ. On top of that, the stupid radio wasn't working.

"Stupid piece of shit!" Sokka cried as he put down the receiver for the fifth time as a burst from an AK kicked up the dirt nearby. He handed the receiver back to Aang and ordered him to remain behind the largest tree they could find and continue trying to reach General Iroh or the nearest artillery battery. The Russian rounds got closer and Sokka exposed himself briefly to return fire, but he didn't hit his assailant.

Zuko launched a 40mm grenade at a group of Russians that had made the horrible mistake of bunching up. They paid for their mistake with blood as the concussive blast and the shrapnel produced from the projectile shredded the men's bodies. By that time, Jet and Haru had arrived and began laying down accurate fire of their own. Suki had already detonated both of the claymore mines she had set up in the trees, and those had not stopped the rebels. Neither had the two shots from the Gustav, or the 40 mm. The rebels were baying for western blood.

As Sokka reloaded, he looked around, drawing in his surroundings, looking for something that might help them out. "Aang, give me the radio!" Sokka ordered when he saw the elevated position that was clear of trees. "Wait, what did you say sir?" Aang screamed as a piece of tree bark flew off about three inches above his head. "I said, give me the radio!" Aang looked past his CO and saw the elevation. "No, sir, if you're going up there I'm going too!" Sokka didn't have the time or patience for an argument. "This isn't a fucking movie! Give me the goddamn radio!" Sokka became aggressive and began furiously tugging on Aang's radio.

The Technical Sergeant was surprised by his CO and reluctantly relinquished the radio before going back to shooting. Sokka wasted no time and ran for the small clearing, his unit caught glimpses of him as he ran past them and bullets snapped by and zipped through the branches. The Marine threw himself into the damp earth when he reached his destination and did his best to present the enemy with a smaller target by remaining prone behind a small boulder. He first tried to reach General Iroh, but that quickly went nowhere. He then attempted to reach Teo and caught a brief burst of static and the pilot's voice. "Teo, I don't know if you can hear me but I need you to be at the secondary LZ for pick up, I say again, be at LZ Bravo in twenty mikes, Royal Six out."

The twenty minute time table was quite a stretch, and Sokka was not sure if they could make it. If he wanted to increase his unit's chances, they would need either fire or air support. And the A-10s had already left the area to re-arm and refuel; they wouldn't be back for quite some time. That left the Paladins in the 2nd Infantry Division. But every frequency he tried he either heard static or figured out it was encrypted. Sokka felt frustration rising in his body, but he calmed himself down and took a kneeling position in an attempt to send out a better signal. "This is Royal Six, with Joint Task Force Alpha-One, I need fire support on the following coordinates," Sokka relayed the coordinates even though he wasn't sure if anyone was listening. By that time the volume of fire directed towards him had increased and he produced his pistol so he wouldn't be completely defenseless as he fiddled with the radio.

Sokka repeated the coordinates numerous times, checking his tactical pad to make sure they were correct. He emphasized that the fire mission would be danger close. As Sokka reloaded his pistol again, he looked down at the receiver and picked it up again in the hopes that someone had heard him. _"This is Paladin gun battery 3, repeat the fire mission coordinates again, Six,"_ the clipped voice said. Sokka complied and requested a one round per gun salvo. A few seconds passed, and the rounds screamed overhead before landing among the advancing rebels. Sokka sighed with relief, "Paladin, request a fire mission on those same coordinates! Fire for effect!"

"_Shot out, Six, get small and keep your heads down,"_ Paladin advised.

Despite the fact that Sokka had a throat mike to communicate with his team, he forgot all about it in the heat of combat and resorted to screaming above the noise. "We've got incoming friendly shells, take cover!" Sokka realized that they couldn't just pull back off the crest without putting up a fight otherwise the rebels would realize that something was wrong and less of them would be caught in the barrage, in fact the previous rounds seemed to have worked in the task force's favor by drawing in more rebels to kill, He would wait for the barrage to hit, and then they would peel back down the reverse slope and then hold up to put up more of a fight.

The shells began to hit as Sokka holstered his pistol and brought his SCAR-L to bear again. Once he saw that the shells had kicked up sufficient dirt, he ordered the task force to peel as he provided covering fire. The rebels were just less than 100 meters away and were too busy trying not to get blown up to notice that their prey was slipping away. As the task force fell back, one person emptying a magazine and reloading on the move as everyone else laid down suppressive fire for them before the next person stood and did the same. The main thing was to break contact, and Suki helped matters by tossing a smoke grenade to mask their movement. Sokka was the last one off the crest. He tossed the radio at Aang and thanked him sincerely.

It was at that time that Sokka saw one of the most glorious sights of his military career: Teo's V-22 Osprey passing overhead with its rotors shifting into their upright position as it prepared to land. The door gunner was in position on the ramp and firing at the advancing Russians on the other side of the hill with his M240. "About damn time," Sokka said with a smile, he hadn't risked his neck by exposing himself to enemy fire for no reason. "Okay; Vertigo, Magnum, Hammer and Elmer, you guys fall back towards the LZ and we'll tie up Ivan here for a bit!"

Splitting up his unit was a bit risky, but he wanted a competent team left to complete the mission if things went further south and Sokka and his team were wiped out. "No arguments, we'll egress momentarily!" Sokka had heard a slight cry of protest from someone over the squad radio so he cut that person off immediately. He was watching as the people he had ordered to fall back towards the LZ did so, when another round snapped by. Jet fired off a 40mm at a group he had an angle on and Toph began laying down a deadly sheet of fire with her Mk-48. Sokka moved around as much as he could, once again exposing himself to enemy fire. He was surprised to see the artillery rounds came in closer, providing more cover for the task force. It allowed Sokka and his people to egress towards the LZ.

He was surprised to find Suki and Zuko in position with Zuko helping Aang guide in the artillery rounds. "Why aren't you in the Osprey?" Sokka snarled as he dropped to the dirt next to Suki. The VTOL had already landed and unloaded a team of four Pararescure Jumpers to secure the area. "We were waiting for you guys," Suki answered. "By the way, Aang got through to some Thunderbolts and they're going to fuck up the hill top."

The Marine looked up at the hill and saw the rounds kicking up dirt and possibly body parts. The rebels weren't going to keep pursuing them for long. He had overreacted just a bit by splitting up the task force; it had been an honest mistake. Sokka put the realization out of his mind and did a quick head count. Everyone was present, and he ordered the task force into the Osprey. They ran through the rotor wash, Sokka took a kneeling position next to one of the PJs and waited for his unit to enter first. He patted the PJ on the back and thanked him as they collapsed back into Osprey.

Everyone had taken a seat and began catching their breath, trying to come down off of their adrenaline high. The PJs went around and asked each task force member if they were wounded in some way, thankfully none of them were. Sokka pressed through them, and reached the cockpit where Teo was sitting and chattering with his copilot about something. "Teo, where were you?" Sokka shouted, trying to outdo the noise caused by the rotors as they lifted off the deck. Teo turned and looked at Sokka like he was crazy, Sokka shouted at him again. The second time Teo just smiled and handed him a headset so he wouldn't have to scream. "I said: Where the hell were you Teo?"

"I got your call as I was refueling back at the FOB, that's when we picked up the PJs as a Quick Reaction Force. The General heard you by the way, and so did I we just couldn't talk back for some reason," Teo said as an RPG streaked past the cockpit. It didn't faze him though, since they were already moving forward as they climbed.

Sokka turned and watched as the door gunner was on his gun and firing at figures emerging from behind boulders at the base of the hill. That was when the A-10s rocketed by and dropped their ordnance. The Russian rebels never stood a chance.

As the Osprey flew over the burned out hulks of tanks, and the A-10s continued to hammer the enemy, General Iroh came on the net to question Sokka. He asked if the Marine believed that they could proceed with the mission. Sokka looked around and saw his units talking to the PJs; he noticed that many of their ammunition pouches were empty. Sokka frowned, "Sir, we'll need ammunition to complete the rest of our mission, we need to find somewhere to refit." Sokka had to be honest, there was no way they could carry out their objective with a quarter of their ammo gone. _"Very well Royal Six stand by,"_ Iroh answered. Sokka's eyes traveled around the compartment as thought about some of the things he could have done differently.

He looked down his plate carrier and noticed that he had burned through just three magazines, leaving five. Sokka waved at Zuko and patted his ammo pouches when he got the Chief's attention. The Delta operator looked down and did an ammo count, he then lifted up five fingers. He passed the word on to the rest of the task force who did the same. They weren't dangerously low on ammo, but they weren't topped off. Sokka came up with a solution; he motioned towards the PJs and patted on his ammo pouch again.

"_Royal Six, there's an Army unit nearby where you can pick up more ammunition or any more equipment you might need,"_ General Iroh said with a sigh.

"Um, negative Dragon, we just found a solution to our problem, stand by," the PJs handed a couple of magazines to the task force. They explained that they were heading back to base and wouldn't need it. Scrounging up more ammo for the 48s was more difficult for Toph and Will, but the door gunner handed them each one belt of 7.62 NATO ammunition. They were good to go. "Dragon we just found some ammo, we can proceed with the mission."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Miles away at Forward Operating Base Ambrose, General Iroh paced as he listened to radio transmissions from the AO and video screens flashed thermal imaging footage of troop movements and special operations missions going on around Russia and parts of Ukraine. Iroh rubbed his temple and did his best to minimize the stress he was feeling.

He had just received a call from a general who had relayed some very stressful news to Iroh. The town of Dukhovka was given more importance than he had previously known about; a pair main roads went through the town that would allow the loyal Russian Federation forces to link up with the UN forces on the rebel's flank. It would force them into an even smaller pocket. As a result, the Russians had dropped a combined force of about fifty GRU Spetznaz commandos and VDV Paratroopers near the town so they could hold it and facilitate its taking by either loyalist Russian forces or UN forces.

It was at that point that a Russian general had come on the line and briefed Iroh further, asking for his assistance. The Russian had been tasked with contacting American forces so they would assist the Spetznaz commandos and Russian Paratroopers in holding Dukhovka. It seemed that the rebels had launched several assaults on the town that had been unsuccessful so far. The Russian general had come to Iroh because JTF Alpha-One was the closest friendly unit in the area that could reach the town without fighting through rebel lines; on top of that the rebels had moved their limited anti-aircraft assets into the area and had managed to set up an AA umbrella around the town which made air support and resupply fairly difficult.

Iroh had quite a dilemma on his hands; if he sent the JTF towards the town he ran the risk of losing them as a viable fighting force. If he didn't, support would not reach the Spetznaz and VDV troops, and it was very likely that the town would be lost and along with it, more lives following the urban combat that would occur to retake it. The big issue was that the JTF would need to move without the help of Teo, during the day, and that made matters even worse. "General Keating," Iroh began, the American general had yet to tell him the ETA of the elements of the 2nd Infantry Division that had been sent towards Dukhovka. "What is the ETA on the 2nd ID?" there was a prolonged pause that did not please Iroh.

He watched as Alpha-One was fast approaching their LZ, soon they would advance on the target that had been spotted east of the town by a CIA Predator drone. Unfortunately for all of them, the drone was conveniently lacking its arsenal of Hellfire missiles so it couldn't terminate the target. _"Um, General Iroh, the 2__nd__ ID is held up by fuel shortages. It seems that we've stretched our supply lines quite a bit, and the fuel trucks are having mechanical issues. So it will be a bit of time before they get to the town."_ Iroh bit back a curse.

He couldn't make this decision by himself, he had to consult with Captain Kunayak, the man was the task force field commander after all and he saw the situation with far more clarity than Iroh could. He would be in the best position to make the call. "Very well, General Keating, please stand by," Iroh switched to the Teo's frequency so he could speak directly to the captain. "Royal Six, this is Dragon, I need to ask something of you and your team." Iroh began pacing again, the technicians seated in front of their computer screens would turn slightly to catch a glimpse of the stressed man they all admired.

Sokka's voice came on over the net; he sounded busy but spoke in an even tone nonetheless. _"Go ahead, sir, but please hurry I'm on the clock here,"_ he said politely. Iroh ran the request by him as he watched the largest screen in the darkened room; the Osprey was descending. It took a few seconds for Captain Kunayak to answer but when he did the answer didn't help Iroh's stress levels. _"Sir, I talked it over with my people, and we'll do it. UN and Russian Fed forces need to link up so we can shorten this conflict. The record can show that the call was my own,"_ Sokka replied. Iroh nodded, "Very well, Captain. I'll be in your ear every step of the way."

Iroh was lying of course, he would put it on the record that the call over if the task force would help the Spetznaz commandos hold Dukhovka or not was made by him. If the mission was a complete failure, then the blame would be his own and not Captain Kunayak's. It wouldn't matter if they blamed him and he failed though, since he would probably be dead if he did. "I wasn't made aware of this call, Iroh," a voice said from Iroh's left.

Rear Admiral Pakku was standing next to him, his arms crossed and the usual look of apathy and boredom on his features. "Well I can't tell you everything that's going on, Pakku, especially when you're not around. Direct decisions about the movement of the task force must be discussed face-to-face and not via phone," Iroh pointed out. "Well, Iroh, it's not my fault that I have to deal with my other units in DEVGRU as well as Alpha-One," Iroh detected a mild amount of snarky timbre in the rear admiral's voice.

"You're not the only one dealing with other units, Pakku, so please, get over yourself," that shut him up. Iroh was in no mood for anyone's attitude.

The two men watched as the Osprey was making its final descent, the rotors pivoted upwards to provide extra lift as the rotor wash kicked up. Tiny human figures, white in color since they were being viewed through the Predator's infrared lenses, exited the back end of the Osprey and fanned out, securing the LZ. Within minutes the Osprey was in the air and the task force had melted into the landscape. They could not hide their heat signatures, but Iroh could more or less see that they were in well-concealed positions. _"Command, this is Six; can you confirm heat signatures about two clicks to the southeast?"_ Captain Kunayak's voice hissed over the radio. "Stand by, Six," Iroh said before stepping up to one of the Predator pilots and quietly ordering him to reposition the drone so they could get a better look at the area Sokka was talking about.

It took a minute, but the pilot increased the drone's altitude and zoomed in on distant heat signatures. "Royal Six, I can confirm that there is a force of three BMPs and one BTR _less_ than two clicks southeast," Iroh had insisted on the Predator being loaded with AGMs as soon as he knew that the task force was in hard contact with an enemy force. He could already see that they would come in handy. _"Roger that, I'm requesting AGM strike on those vehicles, the BTR is your primary,"_ the white human-shaped heat signatures began moving closer to the vehicles, they halted suddenly and Iroh watched as two of the figures peeled off in another direction.

The main screen bleeped as it showed the Predator's reticule locking on to the BTR; the vehicle's profile was very different compared to the BMP's. All of the vehicles were immediately highlighted by boxes, the Predator pilot locked onto the BTR and waited for the AGM to lock on. "Sir, I have a lock on the rebel BTR," the pilot announced. Iroh relayed the news to Sokka who asked for the pilot to hold the missile until they confirmed which vehicle the target was in.

A few tense minutes passed until Captain Kunayak said that Haru and Jet had eyes on the target and were uploading a picture to confirm they had the correct man. The picture popped up in another screen, facial recognition software immediately began to compare the man's features to the CIA database. _"Dragon, let me know when you've confirmed that bastard's identity, I want that Hellfire off the rails as soon as possible,"_ Sokka was crawling towards the ring of vehicles followed by everyone else except for the two heat signatures on over watch. The view screen chirped and the identity was confirmed. "Royal Six, I've confirmed that you have acquired the rebel leader Andrei Urban, we're ready to fire."

"_Negative Dragon, hold off on that Hellfire and target one of the BPMs, I have plans for the BTR,"_ Iroh cocked an eyebrow, he had no idea what Sokka was planning but figured that there was no time to question him and ordered the Predator pilot to target one of the BMPs.

There was muttering over the net as Sokka ordered Haru to kill the man in the BTR's hatch, but to wait for the Predator to fire off its AGMs. Iroh gave the order and the missile streaked towards the BMP to the far right of the formation. As it neared the armored vehicle, Iroh heard Jet say, "Target neutralized, you got him in the throat." It was then that the AGM hit, but by then the Predator was locking on to the other vehicles and let loose with its ordnance. The three BMPs were reduced to burning skeletons and the men walking amongst their vehicles were either killed or knocked unconscious by the massive overpressure caused by the Hellfires and the exploding BMPs. They never stood a chance.

Iroh watched as six of the infrared signatures moved in quickly, firing at one figure that had survived the attack and stumbled among the wreckage. As they got closer, within twenty meters at the least, the BTR lurched forward as if it was trying to move but found itself boxed in by the dead vehicles that had once been a part of its protective detail. _"We need that BTR intact!" _Sokka shouted. Iroh smiled when he heard the Marine say that, he was resourceful and quick to improvise. Qualities every special operations soldier had to have, Iroh had chosen well.

One of the signatures sprinted forward and reached the BTR; it climbed on the hull of the vehicle and reached one of the hatches. Iroh saw a burst of white as the figure stuck his or her weapon into the hatch and let off a prolonged burst. _"All clear in this hatch, Cap," _a female voice said. _"Good job, Outlaw, everyone else make sure the other guys are down for good."_

The figures spread out and inspected the bodies closest to the BTR; they were weary of secondary explosions from the BMPs. _"Outlaw, check the dead dude in the turret, is he our guy?"_ Toph confirmed that the man that Haru had drilled through the throat with a .338 Lapua cartridge, as in fact Urban, the man Haru and Jet had observed through their scopes. _"It's a good thing he didn't pop him in the face,"_ Toph said, _"otherwise no one would be able to confirm it was him by just looking at what's left."_ Iroh sighed, remembering the gallows humor he had used during his days in the field.

"_Roger that, Outlaw," _Sokka turned a dead body over with his boot as he spoke. _"Dragon, please confirm, what's the mission status?"_

"Operation Guillotine is a success, Six, mechanized rebel forces in the immediate area lack a commander and that's one more name crossed off of Langley's list."

"_That's good to hear, we're proceeding on to Dukhovka and using the BTR for transport, please stand by."_

The captain directed his people to help get the bodies out of the BTR and possibly clean up the inside if they wanted. Apparently there was a large pool of blood in the driver's seat, but Sokka realized that he had misunderstood when he saw that it was dried blood. The troop compartment was also smeared with the red-stuff, only it was fresh, it seemed that wounded or dead men had been in the vehicle a short while before. Once the vehicle was cleaned out, there was a small squabble over who would drive. It turned into a prolonged squabble which caused Pakku to shake his head and plant his forehead in his palm. Eventually the vehicle began to move, but the agitated conversations continued, Iroh caught parts of it. "The best operators the United States and the British military have to offer," Pakku said. "And they're arguing over who gets to drive."

"It shows enthusiasm, Pakku, besides I'm sure they were doing it to lighten the situation," Iroh was sure he was right. Comic relief was something important in the field. He watched the BTR move out of the field and in the direction of Dukhovka. However, General Iroh did not know that the members of JTF Alpha-One had been in fact seriously arguing over who got to drive, the heated discussion only ended after they realized that their understanding of the written Russian language was fairly limited. As a result, they voted on shoving Aang into the driver's seat. They were pleasantly surprised to find out that the Airman was a good driver for his lack of training on the vehicle. Sokka decided to showcase his enthusiasm by donning one of the former crew member's caps and taking a position in the turret.

Sokka was making it up as he went, there was a certain amount of apprehension about that but that was to be expected. "C'mon Aang, tallyho!" the Marine shouted with a huge grin on his face. With any luck, they'd be able to reach the town and hopefully not draw any attention to themselves from roving rebel patrols as they moved towards the town. The task force's actions over the next few days would determine the length and cost of their stay in Russia.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: The GRU, the VDV and the JTF**

About ten minutes into Joint Task Force Alpha-One's little road trip, it became evidently clear as to why the series of rebel vehicles had stopped in such a vulnerable area. "The fuel line's screwy," Aang announced as he drove. Sokka was crouched next to him, his eye brow cocked quizzically. "How can you tell?" Aang pointed to one of the gauges and its jumble of Russian characters. "That needle has been moving down very slowly at a regular pace, unlike everything else. I think the fuel line was damaged or something," he concluded.

"That would explain why most of the crew members were dismounted when we hit them," said Sokka. "Do you think the fuel will hold? We have about seven more clicks to cover," Aang shrugged.

"I don't know sir, but either way we'll be closer to the town," Aang said as he adjusted his position in the seat.

Sokka nodded and began looking around, the BTR-90 was equipped with a 30mm cannon as its main armament. If they ran into trouble, it was their best bet in order to get out of it. "It's not too difficult to drive, is it?" Sokka asked Aang as he fiddled with the controls for the gun, or at least what he thought were the controls. Aang shook his head, "It really isn't too difficult, there are no tracks on this thing, it just has eight wheels, and it handles like an oversized SUV with bigger blind spots."

"Mhm," Sokka said before turning around and told someone to figure out the controls for the 30 mike-mike.

They ran into a bit of trouble when the BTR stumbled across a rebel vehicle with men standing around it. The hood was propped open and they were waving their arms, calling out to them, they were also armed. A list of options went through Sokka's head; he could stop and wing it, he could keep going, or he could stop and terminate the men, they were rebels after all. Sokka waved back and ducked back into the BTR, he had made his decision.

"Okay, we have four tangos coming up on the right side of the vehicle, suppressors on, I want them out of the picture the moment you guys are clear of the ramp. Who are my shooters?"

Sokka observed as Suki and Zuko were the first people to produce their suppressors and screw them onto the treads of their pistol barrels as the vehicle was noticeably decelerating. Will was the third. "I'll keep them busy, hit them from both sides," Sokka ordered as he took his position in the turret again. The BTR came to halt and Sokka raised his hand, uttering one of the few Russian words he knew and using as much of a Russian accent as he could muster, _"Privet!"_ he shouted as the hatches opened and the rebel returned his greeting. The man then let out a stream of Russian and pointed towards the vehicle, he was obviously frustrated. However his frustration did not last long.

Zuko exited the rear ramp Suki popped out of one of the side hatches and Will had circled around the vehicle. Six shots spat from suppressed barrels and the men fell dead before they could react. "Strip those weapons off of them, check the jeep-thingy for ammo, the Russians might need it where we're headed," Sokka pointed out. He was doing his best to hide it from his people, but Sokka was a bit nervous. From everything he had learned during his time in the military, he had never heard of Russian special operations forces and NATO SOF working together on a joint mission of this nature, but then again he could be wrong. Either way, Sokka wanted to leave a mark on these Russian troops, he and his unit were going to show the Russians that their counterparts in the west were professionals, and just as deadly as their Soviet predecessors in the Cold War thought they were.

"We found four boxes of Russian 7.62 ammo sir," Murphy said as he hefted the twenty pound boxes, one in each hand. "Load those up, we're short on time, Suki, Zuko, stop screwing around with those guys; let's go!" Suki and Zuko looked up from their inspection of one of the dead rebels. Zuko pointed to the dead guy and said, "These guys were either all officers or senior NCOs, sir."

"Yeah, well now they're dead officers and NCOs," Sokka said tersely as he waved them into the vehicle.

They were able to travel at about five kilometers before the engine started to sputter out, they came to a halt just a little over two clicks outside of the town. After dismounting the vehicles they realized that there was a definite rebel presence in the surrounding area. Clearings etched with tire and tank tracks along with hundreds of footprints and several shell and mortar holes. Sokka ordered his people to dismount and grab as much ammo as they could before telling Zuko to rig the BTR to blow if anyone opened the main hatch. As they hustled and heaved the ammo boxes, they could hear gunfire off in the distance. They heard small arms mixed in with big guns like 30mm cannons; it was an incentive for them to move faster.

Sokka grabbed two ammo boxes and hefted them as they moved, he told Suki to take point. He assumed that she knew exactly where they were headed and would get them there in no time, she proved him right and they were soon approaching the outskirts of the town and the sounds they had heard before were starting to both grow louder and dissipate as they came closer. Toph turned her head slightly and looked at the captain out of the corner of her eye; Sokka noticed and looked back at her. "It sounds like they're moving off," he said as a distant explosion cut through the air and the task force noticed a black column of smoke rise up ahead of them, the source obscured by a thicket of trees.

Suki suddenly lifted a closed fist as the trees became less dense due to the road they were approaching; the task force froze, and then kneeled when she laid her palm flat in the air. Sokka planted the ammo boxes next to him and brought up his weapon. He used the ACOG scope to scan the area ahead, he saw Suki doing the same. She brought up her hand again and put her palm parallel to the ground again more forcefully and everyone went prone. That was when they began to hear the bustle of activity coming their way. Suki turned towards Zuko who was to her left and gave him three quick signals which they passed down until they reached Sokka. Two fingers, one pointing to each eye, _"I see,"_ followed by a finger pointing ahead, _"In front," _and finally a thumb pointing down, _"Enemy."_

Sokka signaled for more space in between bodies, and for everyone to have their weapons at the ready. The rebels came in slowly at first; they observed how their pace quickened as several men further away began firing at something the task force could not see. "Move up," Sokka hissed into his throat mike. He risked breaking the silence the task force had maintained up to that point; it didn't really matter since the rebels wouldn't be able to hear them over the sound of their own gunfire.

They crawled forward on their bellies, Murphy and Toph moved up quicker than everyone else; they read the captain's plan and knew that machine guns were needed. "Hold your fire until I say so," Sokka said, leaving the ammo boxes behind. Once they were in position, Sokka gave the order for the machine gunners to open up first. They were located on the two flanks, which gave them the advantage of having overlapping fields of fire. In between Murphy and Toph, the rest of the task force opened up on the fleeing rebels with assorted small arms and 40 mike-mikes. Some rebels escaped, but the majority of them were cut down in the surprise L-shaped ambush. It was over in a little over a minute.

A few seconds after the last rebels fell, and a few others were left twitching on the ground, groaning, armed men came into view, speaking in Russian. Sokka would have ordered that his people open up on the men but he noticed their striped, light blue telnyashkas under their jackets, he had yet to notice them on rebel troops. They were VDV, friendlies. "Hold your fire, blue, blue, blue!" Sokka cried as he pictured eight iron sights tracking the paratroopers. His voice carried and the paratroopers went prone and aimed at the source of the voice, chattering in Russian. "Shit," Sokka cursed when he realized the situation they were in, if he came out of the thicket, he would probably be shot before he could even utter that he was an American. Hell, the Russians might just shoot him even more if he did say that he was an American.

Jet suddenly stood up and called out – in Russian- and surprised the hell out of everyone. The Russians hesitated for a moment before one of them, most likely an NCO, popped his head up and said something in his native tongue that sounded like a question. Jet answered and Sokka caught a few words that he could more or less understand. The paratroopers stood up, but kept their weapons at the ready. Sokka figured that since he was the CO, he would be the first to stick his neck out; if something went wrong he really hoped his ballistic plates did their job.

Sokka lifted his weapon by the barrel in one hand, while the other one went up as well despite being empty. "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" He hoped that the Russians could at least understand a non-threatening gesture when they saw one. Thankfully they did and lowered their weapons; two of the four men looked at each other and muttered something before one shrugged. "Who are you?" the one closest to Sokka asked. "Captain Sokka Kunayak United States Marine Corps!" Sokka said sternly. "We're here to support the forces holding Dukhovka, are you with them?"

The Russian nodded, "Sergeant Berezin, with the 45th Detached Reconnaissance Regiment, these are my men." He pointed at the young soldiers behind him, the oldest looked about 20.

Sokka made eye contact with each of the paratroopers and acknowledged their presence with a nod. "How many of you came?" Berezin asked as he cocked his head to look behind Sokka and into the thicket. "There are eight of us," Sokka answered, doing his best not to sound hesitant. "Are you part of a scout squad?" the Russian NCO asked as his men began checking the dead. "No sergeant," Sokka clenched his jaw. "We're it." Although Sokka expected the Russian's eyes to nearly pop out of his head, he was even more surprised when the man simply shrugged and muttered something in Russian before sighing heavily.

The task force emerged from the trees; they were doing their best to appear as non-threatening as possible. Toph and Suki garnered some odd looks from the Russians; odds were that they had never seen a woman in a SOF role. Sokka noticed, and made a mental note of it so he could mention it to Zuko when they were out of Russian ear-shot. "Come with us," Sergeant Berezin said before setting a blazing walking pace, heading towards the town. "Was that a rebel attack?" Sokka asked as he stepped over a dead rebel with his throat shot out. Berezin shook his head and took a moment to find the correct words. "_Net, _they were a scouting party, former VDV, like us."

"How do you know?" Sokka suddenly remembered the ammo. "Someone fetch that ammo we left back there!"

"I knew some men. My brother served with them in Chechnya," Berezin growled, ignoring the ammo order.

The Marine held back a wince; Sergeant Berezin had just finished killing men he had known. Odds were that the man's day was not going too well. "We ambushed them, up there," the Russian pointed up the road and in the distance Sokka could see prone forms in the road. "Good job," Sokka said.

He noticed that Jet was over to his left, Sokka edged closer to him and hissed at him. "Why didn't you tell me you spoke Russian?" Jet looked at his CO for a moment and shrugged. Sokka's eyes narrowed and he shrugged back at Jet, he did it two more times, each time he exaggerated the gesture just a bit more. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? We could've used your help in that BTR!" Sokka was doing his best to keep his voice low, so the Russians wouldn't really realize that he was having issues with one of the men under his command. He had to appear in control at all times.

"I can't read Russian too well, just speak it and even then, it's all very heavily accented and remedial," Jet said matter-of-factly.

Sokka cocked an eyebrow dangerously and pointed at Jet before pointing back at himself. "You and I aren't operating on the same wavelength, sergeant," Sokka's voiced oozed lethality. "I've got my eye on you."

After the small warning Sokka gave Jet, he took his position near Berezin again, the Russian sergeant had stopped speaking and was walking silently, lost in thought. "Sergeant Berezin, shouldn't we walk among the trees?" Sokka felt a bit exposed. Berezin shook his head and said that it did not matter since the rebels stayed out of the woods about a kilometer outside of the town anyway.

As they neared the town the crossed two clearing, all were filled with the signs of skirmishes. Both were filled with dead rebels, the flies hadn't really started doing their thing since it was a bit too cold for their comfort level. However, rodents had gotten at the corpses, and Sokka was taken aback when he saw one of the bodies seemingly moving autonomously, and for a rat to pop out from the dead man's trousers. He also counted four burned out BMPs, dead and pieces of the dead were littered around the knocked out vehicles, it seemed that they had been hit as the infantry exited the rear.

That was in the first clearing, in the second clearing they found two more destroyed BMPs and one dead T-80 in the distance, already reaching the crest of the hill when it had been knocked out. Sergeant Berezin raised his hand and waved, Sokka watched as another man stood up out of his concealed position on a shallow hill just barely obscuring a bit of Dukhovka. _"That's a pretty good defensive position,"_ Zuko noted over the squad net. Sokka agreed, the Russians were in a good defensive position, dug in on a hillside with sufficient cover and concealment. But he noted the shell holes, the majority were visible within the Russian line which meant that the rebels already had their adversary's positions zeroed in. That would cause more problems for them later on, if it wasn't already doing so.

They got closer and crested the hill, some paratroopers emerged from their positions and greeted the sergeant before ducking back into their fighting holes, needless to say Sokka and his people got a few weird looks; a cross between indifference and intrigue. Sokka looked down into the small town and saw the havoc the rebel shells had wreaked on stone buildings. The only structure in the town that still looked sturdy and intact was the church, its humble spire rising up from the smoking ruins of what had once been a town filled with life. Sokka felt his stomach do a back flip as he wondered if the civilians had been evacuated before the rebel onslaught.

"Lieutenant Goraya is at the church, follow me and look out for mortars, some of them have not yet blown up," Berezin said as he checked his AK magazine and sighed when he saw it was empty.

They moved through the narrow streets, the widest street was two lanes across and had taken a horrible beating. Slabs of concrete were missing and the sewage system below was exposed, stinking up the place. Upon further inspection, Sokka also saw that there were several smaller buildings that had remained standing, and others that had collapsed inward. Either way, all of them would provide decent fighting positions if the rebels drove them back into the streets.

They encountered more Russian troops as they neared the church, the majority of them were wounded but still able to fight. He saw a young private with his thumb and index finger missing, holding his weapon's pistol grip with his pinky and ring finger while his middle finger rested on the trigger guard. Sokka thought the wound was not all that bad, until he reached the boy's face and saw that he was unrecognizable for the most part under a bundle of bandages that covered the entire right side of his face. But despite his condition, the young paratrooper made eye contact with Sokka using the only eye he had left, and nodded politely. He also noticed something good, the majority of the wounded men seemed to be eating, and their wounds all looked good for the most part, they had all been cared for.

"This way, captain," Berezin motioned for Sokka to follow him into the church.

Sokka nodded, "Staff Sergeant, Chief, and Psycho, come with me. Doc, see what you can do to help the wounded and everyone else do the same," the Marine ordered before disappearing into the church along with Suki and Zuko. Sokka suddenly stopped and stuck his head back outside to address his people again. "Oh, and guys," he waited until their faces were turned towards him. "Play nice with Russians, please," he got a few chuckles and eye rolls in return,

Inside the church, Sokka was assaulted by a cloud of dust that seemed to have been laser guided down his throat. He was still coughing when he entered one of the back rooms where the Russians had set up a small CP. There were three men huddled around a map set on a table where priests had probably prepared the holy sacrament for mass not long before. In a corner another man was working furiously on a radio, blathering on in heated Russian. Berezin stepped into the dim light in the room, afforded to them by chemical lights and a lonely window on the far wall. He spoke to one man in particular, a young man that didn't look a day over 22 with strong and proud Slavic features, his pale blue eyes darted up from the map and locked on to the sergeant, bags under the blue orbs gave away his stress levels.

"Are the Americans finally here?" the officer asked, relief flashing across his features for a second.

"Um, no," Sokka mumbled, catching the American part of the Russian's question and figuring what he was asking. "Not the main force anyways, I'm Captain Kunayak, with Joint Task Force Alpha-One, and this is Chief Warrant Officer Long, Staff Sergeant Townsend and Sergeant Luan. We're here to help," Sokka hoped the last part didn't give off a pessimistic vibe.

The Russian officer's features relaxed and then turned into a frown. "Oh, very well then," he walked around the table and extended a grimy hand towards Sokka who slipped off one of his gloves and grasped it tightly. "I am Lieutenant Lev Goraya," the Russian said with a grim half-smile. "It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant, would you mind if I spoke to your superior?" Sokka assumed that the senior officer had been wounded; as a result Goraya was in charge. "That's not possible, Captain Kunayak, unless you would not mind speaking to a corpse. Captain Yudin was killed two days ago by a BMP; he's right over there," Goraya pointed to the corner were Sokka saw a body bag that appeared to be half filled lying on the floor alongside several others. "Those are some of our senior NCOs, and the rest are outside in the courtyard."

Sokka pointed at the map on the table, "May I, Lieutenant?" There would be more time to count the dead later. Goraya waved Sokka towards the table and introduced him to the two other men; both looked like the grizzled veterans Sokka always imagined when Cold War novels described Soviet soldiers. "This is Warrant Officer Nikita Azarov, he is the most experienced man I have here," Sokka didn't doubt what the lieutenant was saying. The flecks of grey in the large man's stubble told him enough, along with the large scar that ran across his forehead. "And this is Senior Sergeant Sergei Loban, and we are all that is left of the command structure," Goraya huffed.

Berezin stepped forward by then and began speaking in Russian, no doubt reporting what he had encountered during his patrol. While the sergeant spoke, Sokka looked over the map the Russians had laid out on the table. It was marked by what looked like hundreds of tiny red and black lines and arrows as well as Russian letters to further confuse Sokka. It took him a moment to take everything in and decipher what had been scribbled on the map.

From what Sokka could decipher, the rebels had made numerous probes against the loyalist defenses around the town, and at least four major pushes that had been repulsed with heavy casualties on the rebel side. The latest one had been made the day before from two different directions, two company sized elements had moved in on the town from the northeast and the southeast, while a day before they had pushed from the south. Two days before that, when the Russians had just set up their defenses, the rebels had attacked from one direction with a massive amount of troops and armor, from the west.

"How many men did you drop in with?" Sokka asked as his mind started to go through a list of plans that he had thought about before. "There were about 100 of us on the first day along with one light tank," Lieutenant Goraya lifted a bag and placed it on the table. "We've been reduced to just over 60 combat effective men in six days." Sokka suddenly wondered what it was he and his seven task force members could do to swing the tide of battle in favor of the loyalists. Air power couldn't be considered at the moment since there were reports of SAM launchers in the area and the UN wouldn't want to risk sending expensive aircraft into an area where they was a high probability of getting shot down. There was just something about destroyed planes, tanks and naval vessels on television that set the public off and seemed to send the message that the operation was a failure.

Lieutenant Goraya pointed towards the area north of the town with a bandaged left hand Sokka had failed to notice before. "We think that is where they will attack from next, so I have shifted the majority of the men there," Sokka nodded in agreement. He also noticed that Goraya's English was extremely good, his grammar was good and the only giveaway as to his nationality was his accent.

"How have you been holding them off?" Sokka needed to know what the Russians had at their disposal.

"Mortars for the most part, as well as RPG teams and occasionally we call in a rocket strike, if it gets through their AA umbrella," Goraya scratched at his growing beard in thought. "Did you bring enough men?"

"I brought eight, that's including me, but it's better than nothing," Sokka skirted around the question. "Who here is Spetznaz?" he blurted out. The Russians were hesitant, but Sokka had done his research. He knew that it was common for Spetznaz troops to dress exactly like VDV paratroopers in order to blend in. "C'mon, I need to know because odds are that the Spetznaz guys are in charge of this operation."

Sokka made sure to make eye contact with the lieutenant while he uttered the last sentence. Goraya knew that Sokka knew. "I am Spetznaz, as is Senior Sergeant Loban and a few others here," Sokka noticed Warrant Officer Azarov shift his weight uncomfortably. The man was years older than his CO and he probably felt that he was more experienced; odds were that he was correct. And this sudden intrusion by the western powers on their operation made the man uneasy.

The Marine leaned forward and examined the maps more closely; he called Zuko and Suki over so they could have a chance to memorize the lay of the land. A few minutes passed and Sokka decided that he needed to get a good look at the perimeter. "Lieutenant I'd like to take a look at the perimeter, you can stay here and continue planning," Sokka said as he began leaving the room.

"Nonsense, Captain," Sokka heard more Russian and Sergeant Berezin appeared next to Sokka by the time he was outside. "I do not think that you know you're way around the perimeter as well as Sergeant Berezin here, he will show you everything you need to see," Sokka looked at Sergeant Berezin and couldn't help but feel a pang of awkwardness as he realized he'd be walking around a combat zone with a man he knew nothing about, and with the added challenge of a language barrier. It didn't matter, he signaled for Suki, Zuko and Jet to stay.

They traversed the perimeter with Sergeant Berezin explaining firefights that had occurred in different sectors. Sokka was taking it all in, at the same time he was analyzing fields of fire and how effective the Russian positions were. One thing he found was that they were spread thin. And that Lieutenant Goraya was holding two somewhat combat effective squads in reserve to plug any holes that were punched by the rebels. The plan would have been much more effective if they had more men defending the town. Sokka estimated that a town as small as Dukhovka could be defended effectively by a full-sized company with proper air and artillery support. He would have to make do with two and a half rile platoons, and one under strength mortar platoon.

Sergeant Berezin suddenly placed his hand on Sokka's shoulder and applied pressure, telling him to stop. The NCO walked past him and pointed towards a piece of wood with writing on it that had been nailed to a telephone post, one of the few remaining intact ones in the town. "A sniper has been operating in this area for the past two days. He killed four men already, you must be careful," Berezin motioned to the narrow street behind him and then told them that they could find another alleyway around the sniper's alley. "Right," Sokka said with a smile as he took a knee by the wall and pressed his throat microphone. "Hey Magnum, I have a job for you and Psycho," Sokka doubted the rebel sniper could compete with a Special Forces sniper team.

"When was the last time the sniper fired his weapon?" Suki said from over Sokka's shoulder, causing him to jump. Berezin noticed and turned his head quickly before grinning. "I cannot say, he has a suppressor," Sokka's eyes narrowed when he heard the giggle he was trying to stifle in his voice. _"Captain, this is Magnum, what kind of job do you have for me?"_

"A hunting job, and don't tell me you don't want it," Sokka smiled.

"_Of course I want it, where are you, sir?"_

"I'm on the northwest side of town near the edge, steer clear of the streets and passages that open up in that same direction," Sokka observed as Berezin waved to a building across the way. _"Roger that, Psycho and I are en route."_

Berezin turned and motioned for Sokka to come closer. "We need to move across, fast. I will go first, and then you," Berezin pointed at both Sokka and Suki. "What does that sign say anyways?" Sokka asked as he stood up and readied himself to run and possibly expose himself to sniper fire. "It says, 'Keep low, and keep your head'," Berezin said before running across the street. Sokka counted how long it took and was caught by surprise when he reached the count of three. The street was not quite as narrow as he had thought. "Okay, Staff Sergeant, you go first," Sokka said as he maneuvered to push Suki forward.

While many would have thought that he was doing this in order to minimize the risk to himself, it was quite the opposite. By going last, Sokka was putting himself in the most danger since the sniper would have time to draw a bead on the runners and possibly hit one of them. In the scenario they found themselves, it was safest to go first.

"Oh no, sir, you're going before me, I'll have none of that," Suki moved quickly and used Sokka's inertia against him by moving out of the way just as he pushed causing him to almost fall forward. The Marine glared at his team sergeant and shook his head; there would be no point in arguing with her. "Fine, but next time you go before me," Sokka bared his teeth and said a small prayer before running across. "Bounding!" he hissed at no one in particular.

He made it across without incident and slid behind the corner for cover. "Set!" he said into his keyed mike. Suki nodded and took a deep breath before beginning her run. She was about half way across when there was a loud crack that cut through the air, everyone heard it and ducked. At the same time there was shouting Sokka inferred as someone in the building reporting that they saw movement near the tree line and began laying down a blanket of fire with a PKM. "Suki, get across! C'mon c'mon c'mon!" Sokka shouted after seeing Suki stumble when she instinctively ducked at the noise. He peeked around the corner, knowing full well he couldn't get a good angle on the shooter, but he saw distant clouds of dirt being kicked up by the PKM rounds near the tree line surrounding the town.

Sokka exposed himself for a second by leaping out from behind cover and grabbing his team leader by one of her plate carrier straps and yanking her forcefully behind cover. As he did this, the sniper, from his concealed position, sent a follow up shot that connected with the corner Sokka and Suki just managed to dive behind as the round hit home. Frustrated, but not lacking in determination at his two missed shots, the sniper sighed and readjusted. He sighted the PKM gunner who had carelessly silhouetted himself on a roof top, and was letting off a stream of deadly fire at the trees in general. The rebel sniper knew he was safe as he did some quick calculations in his head, it was more difficult to make certain shots without a sniper but he was doing well enough. His finger curled around the trigger of his VSS Vintorez suppressed sniper rifle and squeezed, sending a subsonic, armor-piercing 9x39mm round at the gunner.

On the half-collapsed roof top, the gunner jerked backwards as the round went low and to the left, striking him in the forearm and putting him on his back. The young man, who had just turned 19, was rattled by the experience and began shaking as the medic appeared and started dragging him off the roof. A second round impacted the concrete in front of them, proving once again that the rebel sniper controlled the sector. To further emphasize that point, the sniper called in a prolonged mortar and artillery strike on the north side of town. Sokka held his position in the rubble and watched closely at how the Russians soldiers operated. He then turned and observed Haru and Jet discussing how to deal with the enemy sniper. If they could remove that thorn from everyone's side, the Russians would be more confident in the northern sector. Sokka figured that the north was where the rebels were going to attack next if their sniper was in the area.

"Thanks for that, sir," Suki said as she caught her breath.

Sokka patted her on the shoulder and looked her over quickly to see if she was hit. "Don't mention it, are you sure you didn't get hit?" Suki patted herself down and shook her head. "Okay, good," Sokka keyed his mike. "Magnum, Psycho, you guys better hurry this up, that sniper is screwing things up for everyone around here!"

Among the rubble on the north side of the town, Jet and Haru ducked into an exposed basement. It seemed like a shell had dropped right on top of the building and caused its collapse. They came to the conclusion that a second shell had opened up the floor and exposed the basement to the elements. The sniper and spotter dropped down into ankle deep water and began preparing to stalk the rebel shooter. Their Multi-Cam utility uniform would work well enough for the situation at hand. They removed their helmets and rechecked to make sure nothing rattled, made noise or reflected light. Haru adjusted the make shift rectangular aperture on his scope and mentally prepared himself for the stress that was heading his way. A sniper duel was something he had never really engaged in before, but he could already feel it was bound to be interesting


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Devil in the Dark**

Lieutenant Goraya did not flinch when the American Captain stumbled once more into his CP. He was covered in dust and looked extremely annoyed. The man coughed and wiped some of the dust off his shoulders. Goraya had come to the conclusion that the American Marine was a very peculiar man. He had never met an officer with quite the same demeanor as him.

"I have looked over your perimeter, Lieutenant," the American said with a slight grin. "And I must admit that you have done an excellent job with what little you have, I just have one question."

Goraya cocked an eyebrow; he didn't answer and simply waited for the man to spit out the question. "What happened to that light tank you mentioned before?" the American asked as he approached the table and removed his helmet. "You have a good memory," Goraya said. He still found it a bit awkward dealing with a superior officer from a foreign military. He was not sure how he should treat the man. Although he was sure that Americans did not salute officers in combat zones, which would be stupid for anyone to do; especially with that rebel sniper running around in the north.

"We lost the tank to an artillery shell yesterday, we managed to salvage some ammo, and one of the crew members exited the tank before it exploded," Goraya said, recalling the incident.

"An artillery shell took it out?"

"Yes, it was a one in a million shot, but it happened."

The American nodded grimly and leaned on the table, by that time Warrant Officer Azarov had entered the room, AK-74U in hand. "Mortars!" Azarov shouted while pointing his weapons towards the north. Sokka nodded, "Yeah, that's all me, sorry about that." Sokka turned his attention back to the map and placed his finger on the north side of Dukhovka. "This is where they will attack from next," Sokka stated.

Goraya observed the map for a second as he chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought, there was a high probability that the American was right. "What makes you say so?" Goraya asked, wanting to see the reason behind the American's decision. "Well," Sokka began, "they committed a sniper to the area in order to disrupt your operations, in order to make your men scared so they can make a serious push in that sector. I'm guessing that they'll use any available armor in the area." Goraya paused and thought some more, the American's logic was sound. But then again finding logic on the battlefield was incredibly rare.

"Do your men have radios in order to remain in contact?" Sokka asked.

"No, we must use them sparingly since we lack the batteries needed to always use them," Goraya replied. "We have been using runners to communicate in between sectors." A concentrated barrage landed somewhere nearby and shook more dust off the rafters of the building.

Azarov shouted at Goraya in Russian, Sokka watched their body language in order to at least catch a shadow of what they were talking about. It only took a few minutes for Sokka to become frustrated, and show it as well. Azarov eventually exited the building again, his face marked the same emotion as Sokka's. "He believes that the rebels are attacking again," Goraya said.

"They aren't, that sniper you talked about in the north called in mortars on us," Sokka and Goraya stood at the table in silence for a minute or two before they addressed the issue of rank.

It was difficult ground to tread since Sokka outranked Goraya, but they were not sure how the men would react to being under the command of an American they had never met before. Goraya said that while the men had been extremely loyal towards Captain Yudin, they had accepted Lieutenant Goraya well and there had been no serious issues with his command up to that point. Sokka and Goraya eventually came to a compromise and decided that Sokka would provide strategic and tactical advice for the young Russian officer. But Sokka would not be allowed to take command of the Russians loyalist forces as a whole. The only reason that would happen was if Goraya, Azarov and Loban were all killed. And if that happened, then the rest of them probably weren't going to be alive for much longer.

"Lieutenant Goraya," Sokka furrowed his brow in thought. "I would like it if my unit operated independently for the most part, but if you need us to plug a hole in the line, you can count on my people and me to do so." Alpha-One was well on its way to becoming a well-oiled war machine, there were just a few kinks to work out, although even then they had proven themselves to be a deadly fighting unit. Sokka was confident that if they were sent to hold the line, they would be able to do so for a quite some time, and make the rebels pay for every inch of land they advanced over.

There were a series of explosions outside, they sounded very close. Sokka observed Goraya's reaction, the man barely blinked so he figured that mortars falling near the church happened often. "Very well, Captain, I will respect your wishes," Goraya marked the map with a few dark lines and then observed his scribbling; trying to figure out where the rebels would attack again if their next attack did not penetrate their defensive perimeter around the town. "And just so you know, your men won't have to worry about that sniper for much longer; I have a sniper team of our own working on that problem."

"I had one of my sniper teams working on our sniper problem as well," Goraya's eyebrows arched for a moment.

"What happened?"

"They were killed by a mortar," the Russian said bluntly.

The next few hours were spent memorizing more defensive positions and secondary lines of defense. As Sokka got to know more, he began to like the situation less. If they had at the very least, 200 to 400 men, they would have been able to venture further away from the town and take up positions on some of the surrounding hills. Sokka remembered his studies on the Battle of Khe Sanh; the Marines had fought tooth and nail to remain in control of the high ground around the base for a reason. It provided them with a good position. Sokka now found himself in the very opposite of that situation. In fact his situation mirrored the Siege of Dien Bien Phu only on a smaller scale. What Sokka would have given in order to have an operational tarmac within the perimeter…

When night fell, Sokka risked radio contact with Jet about the sniper situation in the north, according to the Green Beret; they had yet to catch sight of their prey. They hadn't even seen a glint, or a muzzle flash, not even a puff of smoke. But then again, it was doubtful that happened in real life often, Sokka might have picked that up from the movies.

Sokka walked into the main courtyard at the center of the church, men moved in between mortar positions with water. They wanted to be ready in case the rebels made another push and they had to cool down the tubes in between shots. Aang was among them, he had used the miniature solar panel he had brought with them to charge the tactical pad Sokka used and the radio's battery. It made them appreciate technological advancements much more. "Can I use the radio?" Sokka asked, he looked around and realized he was still getting weird looks from the Russians.

Aang was munching on a fruit pastry he had found in his MREs, it was basically a Pop-Tart and they all knew it, but for some reason no one really called it that. "Yeah, sir," the Airman handed the receiver to his commander and handed a small piece of the pastry to a tiny mouse near his boots. "Dragon, this is Royal Six, do you copy?" Sokka waited a moment and watched as Aang then gave the rest of his MRE to a pair of Russians nearby who didn't hesitate to accept. If only they knew what those meals did to people sometimes, Sokka thought. _"Six, I copy, how is everything?"_

"Things could be better, sir. The Russians are holding but just barely, and I doubt my people and I will do much to bolster their defenses."

"_Roger that, Six, is there any chance that you might be able to hold for at least two to three more days?"_

Three days, probably four, Sokka thought, what exactly was holding up the 2nd ID, was the supply shortage so bad? "It's tough to say, sir. Everything depends on us getting some fire or air support, both would be wonderful," Sokka chuckled. _"We're working on that, Six. Have you at least caught sight of the anti-aircraft guns and mobile SAMs?"_ The fact was that Sokka had not, but Lieutenant Goraya had told him just about everything he knew about the AA surrounding the town.

Over the past few days, the loyalist Russian troops had witnessed long streams of tracers erupting from the trees around them as well as streaks belonging to SAMs cutting through the darkness. The first night had been the worst since the rebels had staged an attack on the southern side of town and the Russians had called in for air support. Two Su-25 ground attack aircraft were sent in, and after a few minutes one was blown out of the sky by AA fire and the second took severe shrapnel damage from what the paratroopers thought to be a handheld SAM. Goraya said that they had yet to find out about the pilot's fate. The next day the rebels staged a second attack, and the larger, older Su-24 was sent in with some holding off at a higher altitude to provide cover. It did not work and three aircraft were heavily damaged while one was completely destroyed by a SAM. According to Goraya, the pilot did not even have time to eject.

They came to the conclusion that the rebels had mobile SAMs and AA around Dukhovka; they would fire off a few missiles or a couple of hundred rounds and run before aircraft could get a fix on them. And if the big AA weapons didn't blot aircraft out of the sky, the handheld portable SAM launchers would give the pilots headaches. As a result, Russian Federation Air Command suspended all flights into the area and recommended that all UN aircraft do the same.

However the Russian Air Force had managed to take out a few mobile gun platforms that had been hounding the loyalists since day one. The fact that the rebels had their numbers whittled down as well as the losses their armored vehicles had taken against the paratroopers and the Spetznaz commandos, had forced them to be much more cautious.

"Uh, negative, Dragon, we have yet to see them, but we're working on how to deal with that problem," Sokka lied.

"_No need, Six, we managed to get into contact with Russian Air Command and they think that they can kill those AA guns and mobile SAMs if you mark them."_

As much as Sokka appreciated the sudden enthusiasm by the Russians, he felt much more comfortable with western pilots executing such a crucial sortie. He didn't think that Russian pilots were incompetent; he just thought they lacked the necessary experience to get the job done on the first few passes. "With all due respect, sir, can the Russians see our strobes and are they sure they want to risk more of their planes? I'm sure that a few Warthogs or something from our side can take care of the problem much quicker."

"_I concur, Six, you should run this plan by the Russian CO. Cooperation is key, I'm sure you know that."_

Aang tossed Sokka a stick of beef jerky, which the Marine gratefully tore into as he listened to General Iroh outline his plan. Iroh liked the idea of Sokka and his unit venturing out into enemy territory in order to mark any mobile SAMs and AA they found for a squadron of Apaches the Army had on stand-by. If anything, in case the Apaches failed, the IR strobes might assist more complex weapons in their elimination of the mobile SAMs. The shoulder launched ones were a different problem entirely; there was not much they could do about them. Sokka told Iroh that he would get right on the problem, and handed the radio back to Aang who was still trying to communicate with some of the Russian soldiers. It actually seemed to be going well for him.

"Psst, Aang, come on, we have a job to do," Aang looked up and nodded to the Russians who began speaking in their native tongue to one another in the fading light.

Sokka signaled for the Airman to follow him, they were going to speak to Goraya; they couldn't just go missing after Sokka had promised the man that his task force would be there to plug holes in the line wherever they were needed. It took him roughly twenty minutes to run the idea past the Russians officer and then his own unit, there were no real objections; those SAMs had to go.

With the sky darkening, the task force members at Sokka's disposal took time to touch up their camouflage. They sat amongst the rubble and the Russians, tapping tiny cans of face paint and marking their faces green and black, they all paid extra attention to the contours of their faces, making sure to break up the symmetry of their features. Before heading out, Sokka went around and looked over everyone, making sure they had covered their faces well enough. Suki checked his camouflage in return when he reached her. She was a bit rough about it, grabbing his face and semi-gently turning his head to revise his work before nodding and very gently slapping his cheek.

"Everyone, check your weapons and ammo, leave everything else behind, we need to travel light." Sokka said before going over the plan once again. Everyone knew what they had to do, and JTF Alpha-One disappeared into the tree beyond the perimeter. As they did so, the Russians noted more movement to the east, and a noticeable increase in rumbling and buzzing to the southwest several kilometers away.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Chief Warrant Officer Rose "Bud" Dillon opened and closed her gloved right hand repeatedly as she sat in the front seat of her AH-64D Apache Longbow. She shook her head as a strand of blond hair tickled her forehead and refocused. Captain B.J. "King" Roland sat behind her; he piloted the craft while Rose worked the weapons' systems. She scanned the area around them, using the thermal setting on her Target Acquisition and Designation System, or TADS. Whatever the TADS was seeing; was projected on a monocle over her right eye while her left eye was left free if she wished, at the drop of a hat she could flip down the NVGs on her helmet like Captain Roland who had both eyes covered by the night vision goggles they had all learned to fly with. The goggles were the Pilot Night Visions system (PNVS), and they were slaved to his head's movements, much like the TADS and the chin mounted 30mm M230 Chain gun was slaved to Chief Warrant Officer Dillon's helmet.

"Hey, sir, what unit is that ahead of us?" Rose says as large tank shaped heat signatures pop up on her TADS.

"Elements of the 2nd ID's 9th Infantry Regiment I think, they took a few loses outside Myasnik last I heard but still kicked ass," the Apache decreased in speed, allowing Rose to track signatures more accurately.

A few hundred meters off to their left was Lieutenant Riley "Popeye" Shore piloting his own Apache, Demon Four, hanging back a bit and providing cover for Captain Roland and Rose in Demon Six. Heat signatures flared up miles ahead, Dillon's monocle lit up with the white images against the grey and black background. _"Jesus, Cap, are you seeing all those targets on the FLIR? Damn shame we have to leave them to the Air Force,"_ Shore said, disappointment marking his voice. "I know how you feel, Popeye, but we have specific orders, you know that." Captain Roland responded.

Despite their feelings about being booted out of a typical hunter-killer mission, the two Apaches were tasked with flying into enemy territory under the cover of darkness and heavy air strikes, and get within range of the town of Dukhovka. Command told them that they were to wait for a special operations team to mark rebel AA and SAM positions using SOFLAM and/or IR strobes for the Apaches to eliminate. It was risky, Apaches were tough, but they could be blown out of the sky just like any other aircraft. Anything that went up in the sky for prolonged periods of time always needed to know, that physics was never on its side.

"_Demon Six, this is Dugout, we read you loud and clear,"_ Captain Roland cleaned up the signal.

"Roger that, same here Dugout, we're waiting for the green light, those Airheads better not screw this up, I don't want to reach bingo fuel before killing something," Roland said.

They had left the Forward Operating Base ten minutes before; the town was well within their operational range as long as they flew economically. Two minutes after the transmission, the air attack began. It began with other flights of AH-64Ds firing on a series of SAM sites that had been confirmed by both satellite imagery and Special Forces ODA teams on the ground, they destroyed the sites, opening up a corridor in the rebel air defenses. That was when the timing was at its most important; as the attack helicopters pulled back and began working on targets of opportunity before returning to base, the multirole aircraft pounced.

F-15E Strike Eagles screamed in first, dropping ordnance on known rebel positions, as tracers reached up to touch them and blot the planes out of the night sky. They kicked in their afterburners and climbed, before leveling out and activating their LITENING targeting pods and marking enemy positions. It was then that F-16s came in and fired off their AGM-88 HARMs, the anti-radiation missiles homed in on radio signals given off by radars. Much like the ones given off by SAM batteries. After a few minutes the ground was practically wiped clean of air defenses, except for the occasional ZSU or ZPU, which proved to be annoying.

Without wasting any time, the Air Force gave their B-52s, which had been on station several miles away, the green light to pound the rebel positions to the northwest, away from major allied troop concentrations. The cold, Russian night came alive with fire, as ordnance detonated and men died. Armor and troop formations disappeared in balls of flame and showers of deadly sparks. To the south, near the Black Sea, two carrier groups that had made it through the narrow and very shallow Dardanelles, and Bosphorus straits, had launched their F/A-18s and F-35s and executed the same plan on the southern half of the rebel pocket. Under this massive air offensive, commanders of ground forces made a push into the rebel lines.

On the eastern side of the rebel pocket, more than eighty miles away, the Russians were making a similar push. Their armed forces were eager to finally unleash their might on an adversary, however it was bittersweet that the adversary just so happened to be their fellow countrymen. Either way, the Russians had sent in their Sukhois, Mi-28s and Hinds to kill everything that shot at them. The rebel force's lack of air power made their jobs easier; the UN and Russian aircraft would not engage anything in the air for fear of a friendly fire incident. In fact, all UN multirole aircraft were only equipped with two short-range air-to-air missiles for just that reason. And despite the lack of enemy aircraft, the pilots had for the most part, refused to part with all of their air-to-air ordnance. After the multirole fighters finished doling out their damage, the professionals stepped in. A-10s streaked in and carried out prolonged strafing runs on the rebels' armor and entrenched positions the LITENING pods had marked. As if they hadn't done so before, the A-10s put the fear of God into the enemy.

Rose adjusted her TADS and observed as other Apaches buzzed in a bit several miles away and fired off their Hydra rockets and laser guided Hellfires. She suddenly remembered some of the stories her uncle had told her about Desert Storm. It sure was quite a sight to behold. _"Task Force Devil, you are free to proceed with Operation Lancer, good luck boys and girls, out,"_ the Warthogs in the immediate area held off at high altitude as the Apaches penetrated the airspace. Task Force Devil, which would have consisted of three choppers, moved through the darkness. The Kiowa that was supposed to be their eyes and ears, had taken damage two days prior, the two Apache crews would have to pick up the slack on the target accusation and recon end for the time being.

The crews spoke in intervals communicating anything of interest they saw below, they flew low and fast, avoiding possible radar, not that they would notice them amongst the massive number of contacts they would be tracking in the air. A few loud pings alerted Captain Roland to the fact that rebels were firing at them and some rounds were connecting, but after a few more bursts they realized the pings were coming from small-arms fire and that calmed them down a bit when they flew beyond their range. _"Task Force Devil we're going to patch you through to the special ops CO on the ground, his call sign is Royal Six, stand by," _command announced. A swollen pause followed as Captain Roland maneuvered his chopper in between the occasional hills, through towns and above fire and munitions detonations. _"This is Royal Six, it's always nice to know we have friends in the air,"_ Captain Roland smiled at the sound of the man's voice. Ground forces always sounded happy, stressed or relived when they spoke to him. He sounded like all three.

"He sure does sound happy, boss," Rose said.

"That he does, Rosie," Roland keyed the mike. "Royal Six we're more than happy to help, be advised; we are few miles away from the town on our grid. We're going to hold off and wait for you to mark those SAM and AA positions with your SOFLAM."

"_Roger that, can you by any chance see IR strobes on your optics? I only have two SOFLAMs working at the moment."_ He was a bit pissed, they could hear it.

"Affirmative, we can see them, they marking friendlies?"

"_Negative, we're going to mark enemy targets with them. Say again, we're marking enemy SAMs with IR strobes, give us a couple of minutes."_

Roland bit his lip as he listened; Rose knew what he was thinking and turned to the Captain. "It's a bit risky, boss." She said as Roland settled the Apache behind a hill, he was working technology and terrain to their advantage. The only part of the two Apaches that was exposed to enemy fire was the rotors and the green radome protruding from the center of the main rotor. The radome would allow the Apaches to acquire targets and fire their payload without exposing themselves to fire as they took cover behind the trees. That would only work for their AGMs though. If they used their Hydras, or their 30mm, then Roland would need to increase altitude, pop up and allow Rose to shoot before decreasing altitude and getting back behind cover. "Yes it is, Rosie, but they know what they're doing," Roland had worked in support of special operations before; they were not to be underestimated at all.

The waiting game was not something helicopter crews liked to play. Every second that passed with a full weapons payload on their hard points, was another bit of fuel that they would lack on their return to base. It also knocked minutes off the amount of time they could spend in the battle space and the speed at which they could RTB. _"Demon Six, give us thirty more seconds, we're almost ready for you."_

"Roger that, Royal. Bud, can you see those strobes on the TADS?"

Rose scanned for a few seconds; she readjusted the magnification and saw some distant flashes on her TADS display. "Scanning, sir… I'm not picking anything up yet - Wait a second; I think I see a laser…" Rose adjusted again. "Oh yeah, that's a SOFLAM laser!"

"Hold on Rosie, I'm patching you through to this guy." There was a pause and then Rose heard the click and she knew she was patched through to Royal Six.

A dashed box marked the target that was being painted by the SOFLAM, one of the Hellfire missiles was tasked with taking it out. "Royal Six, I tally your laser," Rose's finger hovered above the fire button on her stick. _"Roger, give us one more mike," _Rose did her best to suppress a huff of impatience. She kept her eye on the trees and watched as faint pulsating glows of light became visible on the TADS, they had set the IR beacons. "Six, I now tally your strobes, I'm marking the targets." Rose marked two of the strobes she saw while CWO Shore marked three others. The Hellfires would each be locked on to a different target; they just had to wait for Royal Six to tell them that they were all clear. The man had to hurry; they were sitting ducks hovering behind the hill. And if the strobes weren't on viable targets they would have to get close enough to use the Hydra 70 rockets and 30mm chain gun.

"_Okay, we're out of strobes Demon Six. I have one more SOFLAM here can you hit what we marked?"_ Rose noted that he sounded out of breath.

"Roger that Royal, we can hit what you guys marked, good job," she said as she noted and locked on to the second lazed target.

"_Awesome, Hammer, get rid of that guy coming up on your position, no noise!"_ He said to one of his men with the line to Rose still open. _"We're clear, Six."_

"Roger Royal, stand by," it took a few seconds for the missiles to calculate the trajectory necessary to hit their targets. Captain Roland eased the Apache back a bit to give the missiles sufficient room to clear the trees. Rose noted that all targets were locked and released her payload. "Missiles off the rails!" Rose said into the mike, quickly followed by Lieutenant Shore's gunner, CWO Brooks in the second Apache. The TADS display showed the missiles angle upwards and accelerate, its hot exhaust turning grey until it dissipated into a ripple effect visible through the FLIR. They were a little over two miles out, and it took the missiles a little under five seconds to reach their targets. The FLIR picked up the flashes of white and the kill-boxes displaying target positions on Rose's monocle vanished. According to the TADS, all targets were destroyed, but she still wanted to get confirmation from the ground.

"Royal Six, what's the BDA?" She asked.

There was a prolonged moment of silence, and brief bursts of static that left Rose's hands cold. What if they hadn't gotten clear? What if some of them had been too close to the blast? She didn't want to be involved in friendly fire incident. "Fuck," Captain Roland said after a full minute passed, he keyed the net, "Royal Six, do you copy?" Another twelve long seconds passed, during which Rose's eyes did not leave the TADS. _"Demon Six, I copy," _he coughed. _"Good effects on targets, I say again, good effects on targets. Tango Uniform, Demon Six, lots of secondaries."_ Rose noted on the TADS that were in fact still explosions coming from the trees, she magnified the images and also saw that there were a bunch of human shaped figures running around. She had not noticed them before because she was so focused on the larger heat signatures.

Roland relayed to command that they had eliminated several mobile SAMs south of Dukhovka, and that they were moving in a bit to provide further support. _"Demon Six, I'm requesting fire on all enemy foot mobile heat sigs, over!"_ Roland jinked the Apache up and began his flight towards the town; Rose was itching to get the enemy within the range of her chain gun and rockets. Roland increased speed and brought the Apache to a halt when they eased within weapons' range, Chief Shore was close by. "Careful, Bud," Roland warned Rose.

Rose laid into the enemy pursuing Alpha-One with a salvo of Hydra 70 rockets, she fired at concentrations of enemy heat signatures; she counted upwards of twenty in one congregation before blasting it apart. "Work on 'em with your 20 mil, Bud!" Roland said. She complied and switched over to the chain gun mounted on the chin of the Apache. Flame erupted from below the cockpit and Rose observed as the rounds cut through the TADS display on her monocle, arching in high trajectory due to the long distance the needed to cover to reach her targets. Regardless, they hit home. The large 20mm rounds chewed up the dirt and sent up shrapnel into the bodies of the rebels, she could see some unlucky bastards vanish from existence in a cloud of what would have been pink mist and sundered flesh with a distant and inaudible _puff_.

She observed as figures with blinking IR strobes ran north, the Apache's fire forming an effective barrier between them and their pursuers. Rose didn't let up; she engaged a trio of vehicles she saw approaching on a road to the southeast with her AGMs and allowed herself to feel a nanosecond of satisfaction at her handiwork. On occasion a lone rocket would lance upwards and miss the choppers by a few hundred feet. Shore closed in and did more damage as Rose and Roland couldn't hit every rebel piece of equipment that they saw. _"Demon, we've broken contact, keep on the enemy. The entire forest is a free fire zone, how copy."_

"Wilco, Royal Six!" Task Force Devil heard Sokka loud and clear, and continued to light the forest up until they reached bingo fuel. As they pulled back, both Rose and B.J hoped they would return to finish the job they had started.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Sokka was taken aback by how well the entire thing had gone. He had been sure that the moment they broke from cover and advanced on the tree line, the trees would come to life with muzzle flashes and the air would snap and hiss and bullets cut through the empty space, and possibly into flesh. But it had not happened. In fact the rifle fire behind them had died down for the most part, although he had no idea what the rebels had been shooting at to begin with since the moment the task force had placed the strobes, and locked onto targets with their SOFLAMs they had put some distance in between them and the enemy.

Without hesitating, they made a quick withdrawal towards the town as Demon Six proceeded to expend the remained of their ammunition before RTB. The woods to the south and southwest of Dukhovka were clear of all major anti-air and SAM batteries. In roughly an hour, the fast movers would be overhead. But Sokka realized that that amount of time would pass very slowly, the moment he heard mortars and small arms fire in the north and northeast. They closed the distance to the Russian lines, and one of them ranted about something in his native tongue as they passed. Sokka did not stop as he made his way north with his people right behind him, he keyed his mike before speaking, "Haru, are you readying me? I need a sitrep on the northern sector, tell me what you see!"

"_Incoming rebel troops, they're hitting us hard over here, we still haven't managed to nab that sniper either. Oh, and we have heavy enemy armor in the trees, T-90s. I hope you guys have that Javelin with you…" _


End file.
